


Worth the Risk

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Case fic with romance, Drama, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Off-screen Relationship(s), Older Woman/Younger Man, Plotty, Reference to child abuse (off screen), Romance, Slow Build, Smut, Written in 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 61
Words: 217,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hermione gives in to temptation and kisses a much younger man, she has no idea how her life is going to change. As Hermione and Teddy navigate a new relationship, they also have to deal with her misgivings regarding their age, his insecurities, her children, his godfather, her ex-husband, and a case at work that keeps them busy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Education

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a very long series that I wrote back in 2007. I'm posting it as one file in case people want to have it in PDF. It's complete, and I'll be updating it here throughout the next week or two.
> 
> Teddy gets an unexpected lesson

The knock on the door was unexpected.

Teddy looked up from the book he was reading and reached over to turn down the wireless. “Yes?”

When the door opened, he sat up quickly and ran his hand through his hair when he saw that it wasn’t Gram. He didn’t have to look in the mirror to know that his hair was probably changing to a vibrant red at the moment as he gaped at the woman standing in his doorway looking around his room curiously. He cringed when he noticed his pants on the floor, left where he’d taken them off before his shower earlier, and he knew she was probably making a list of everything out of place.

“Good afternoon, Teddy. I hope I’m not disturbing you. If so, I could always come back some other time.”

“No! I mean, you’re not, uh, disturbing me. I’m just reading,” he said proudly, showing off the book because he knew she’d appreciate that and possibly forgive him the mess on the floor. “How are you today, Mrs. Weasley?”

“I’m doing well. Are you enjoying your summer?“ She glanced at his book and smiled. “Hortinz Magical Theory? I remember reading that one, myself. What do you think of it so far?”

“It’s brilliant, and it’s not a lot of fancy words that aren’t needed just to sound pompous. I like that,” he told her, watching her curiously. Hermione Weasley had never been in his room before, and he wasn’t really sure why she was there now. Well, she had been in some of his fantasies, the dirtier ones that had started a couple of years ago, but not in real living and breathing person. Of course, if she started to call him a very bad boy and say he needed a spanking while unbuttoning her shirt, he’d know he was dreaming again.

“Yes, the fancy words can occasionally be unnecessary,” she agreed, which made him grin because he’d been right about something. She didn’t agree with just anyone, which meant he had a reason to be smug.

“Did you want to sit?” he asked, blushing as he realized he’d just asked her to sit on his bed. He stood up and hurried over to his desk chair so he could move everything out of it for her to sit down. “Sorry. I’ve been so caught up in reading my great book that I haven’t cleaned today.”

When he looked at her, he saw her glance down and smile, like she did whenever her kids did something silly. He didn’t like her using that smile with him. He was fifteen, after all, and he really hated that she might consider him like one of her kids.

“Your grandmother mentioned how busy you’ve been, meeting your friends in Diagon Alley and working in the garden. And reading, of course,” she said, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear in that way that made him feel all strange. He always wondered why her husband didn’t do that for her, because he definitely would if he were lucky enough to be married to her. Weasley wasn’t here now, though, but he couldn’t go touch her. She’d hex him and call him filthy names if she had any idea what he thought about whenever she was around.

“I like gardens.” He cringed and shifted awkwardly, wondering if he could sound any less suave and charming. Thank God none of his mates were around to hear how pathetic he was around an attractive older woman. It was bad enough when they teased him for flirting with Victoire, and she was younger than him. 

“So do I. I can’t keep anything alive, of course, but I do like sitting outside and relaxing.” She looked around and bit her lip, which wasn’t good at all because it made him stare at her mouth and think about it doing _things_. She looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, and he heard her mutter under her breath as she looked anywhere but at him. “I can’t believe Andromeda hasn’t done this yet. And Harry! God, what sort of Godfather is too scared to have this kind of talk with a young man. Fifteen is just much too old for this. I should have been brought in two years ago, at least.”

“Uh, are you okay?” he asked, slightly concerned that she was talking to herself and even more so when he realized she was talking about having some kind of talk with him. What had he done wrong? Gram was never afraid of speaking her mind, and Harry wasn’t scared of anything.

“Yes. Sorry. I’m here for a reason, Teddy. Your grandmother and Harry asked me for to come speak with you about something very important,” she said, smiling as she turned and reached down for a bag she’d left in the hall. “Shall we do this here or downstairs? I want you to be comfortable.”

He gasped and started to cough to cover, knowing he must look ridiculous with his bright red cheeks and hair. “Uh, here is good,” he stammered, staring at her as he waited to see if she started to undress, since he was no longer sure if he’d fallen asleep or not.

“That’s fine. It’s probably better, since we’ll have more privacy,” she said, sounding like she was talking to herself almost as she entered his room. She walked to the desk chair, stepping over his underpants and around his trainers, and sat down. “I’ve never done this before, but it seems relatively easy. Besides, I figure I should get the practice for when Hugo’s older. You really should have received this talk a couple of years ago, according to the textbooks, but your grandmother had no idea how to approach and it seems that your godfather is a coward when it comes to talking about sex.”

“Sex?” he squeaked as he gaped at her and sat down, missing the bed and falling on the floor. He groaned and covered his face with his hands, relieved that she wasn‘t laughing at him.

“Are you okay, Teddy?”

“Missed the bed.” He smiled sheepishly up at her and then spread his legs out in front of her. “Guess this is as good a place as any to sit." He hesitated a moment before he nervously said, "Mrs. Weasley, you don’t have to give me, uh, this sort of talk. I’m fifteen, you know?”

“Hmph. Whatever your classmates have told you about sex is most likely inaccurate and lacking complete information,” she said in a matter-of-tone that reminded him of Professor McGonagall. That certainly helped him stop thinking about sex. Briefly. “I assume they said that it’s perfectly natural to have sex with anyone you fancy?”

“Um, well, kind of.”

“See? That’s not true at all. Well, it is if you want making love to be meaningless, but for it to really matter, you should care about the person you choose to be share yourself with. Casual sex, while not necessarily wrong in all circumstances, also isn't always right. If you approach a girl that you like with an attitude that it's acceptable to be with anyone you happen to fancy at any given time, then you might risk losing someone who could be very important to you. Sex is about sharing, and it’s far more than just physical release.”

“How is it more than physical?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“It’s also emotional, Teddy. Without emotion, it doesn’t really mean anything at all.”

“Emotional?” He made a face and wondered if Harry would say the same thing or if that just a girly attitude.

“Trust me. If you want it to matter, be selective and make sure you care about the girl you’re with,” she said simply. “Now, I’ve made a list of everything that the books say is important to learn, as well as an agenda of key items. We’ll begin with the reproduction process before we move into contraception and we’ll end with a discussion on relationships. Though, really, I jumped ahead a bit by starting with the latter. Oh well, consider it a sneak preview of that agenda item.”

“You’re written an agenda?” he asked, blinking at her as he ran his hand through his hair and wondered if she’d actually spent time studying sex while thinking about him. Well, not in the way he wanted, but, God, that was still really amazing to consider.

“Yes, of course. How can we cover everything necessary if we don’t have a plan? Anyway, I’m going to teach you the basic charms and types of potions that might come in handy when you’re ready for intercourse, but I’ll also show you a simple Muggle method of protection as well. I’m not foolish enough to think that a teenage boy will remember a charm while caught up in an, uh, amorous mood, so the Muggle contraception might be easier during heated moments.”

Amorous mood? Teddy stared at her as she began to talk, shifting when she said words like penis and vagina and showed him pictures that made sex very unappealing. Still, hearing her say those words was unbelievable, and she looked pretty with her cheeks flushed and her hair escaping from her plait. 

Midway through the talk, he reached for his pillow and pulled his legs up, covering his erection as she continued lecturing him about sex. He wasn’t really listening too much, but he’d go buy a book and study it later just in case she asked him a question he should know the answer to. Of course, judging by how much she was blushing and how she shifted awkwardly a few times after a particularly embarrassing bit, he doubted she’d mention this again. Ever.

 _How_ had Harry thought this was a good idea? Even if Teddy was very good at hiding his crushes, Harry was a man, so he had to realize having a hot older woman talking about sex for hours was just not the best way for him to learn. Not even Harry could be that clueless. He’d been fifteen once, after all, and had to know how easy it was to get hard at just about anything.

By the time she showed him a condom and began to instruct him how to use by wielding a banana that made him feel rather inferior in width, he was ready to kill Harry next time he saw him. He could forgive Gram, because she didn’t know any better, but Harry was going to get hexed next time Teddy visited him. When he didn’t think it could get any worse, she handed him a tiny packet and that bloody banana and looked at him expectantly.

He ripped the first condom he tried and the second snapped when he tried to force it onto the banana. She tsked under breath and leaned down, giving him an amazing view down her blouse as she patiently showed him how to open the package and unroll the condom. Instead of looking at her tits, too much, he tried to listen and managed to put the condom on the banana. She smiled, and he grinned, taking one last look down her blouse before she straightened back up and continued her lecture.

Finally, she finished. She shut the book and put away her things before she looked at him. “Did you have any questions?”

“No,” he said quickly, moving the pillow on his lap as he shook his head. “You’re brilliant, Mrs. Weasley. You covered everything very thoroughly.”

“Really? Oh, good,” she sounded relieved. “I was nervous, but you were lovely, Teddy. Most boys your age would have been snickering or behaving rudely, I’ve no doubt. If you have any other questions in the future, I’d suggest asking Harry because this is the extent of my knowledge for general sexual education.”

“Oh, I’ll ask Harry and not one of the lads from school,” he promised, imagining how his mates would react if they knew he’d received this sort of talk at his age. While he wasn’t the most smooth bloke in the world, he was quite a charmer when he wanted to be, and they all probably thought he’d been on the pull for years.

“That’s a wise idea. The boys at your school don’t know half what they probably think they do,” she said. She stood up and smiled down at him. “Well, I’d better go now. That took longer than expected, but I hope it helped. Enjoy the rest of your book, Teddy. It’s really quite interesting. I’ll see myself out.”

“Thanks again, Mrs. Weasley. That was, uh, very informative. I’ll Floo over next weekend to help you with your garden, if you’d like. To repay you for this lesson,” he offered, knowing it wasn’t simply an excuse to ogle her in a sundress or those Muggle shorts that showed off her legs. Well, not completely.

“You don’t have to do that, but you’re always welcome to visit,” she told him. “We’re usually home on weekends since we both work so much during the week and don’t have near as much time with the children as we’d like. I certainly don’t mind a helper with the gardening, though, if you find yourself that bored. Take care, Teddy.”

He watched her leave, rolling his head back against the bed so he could stare at her arse. After she was gone, he stood up and rushed over to shut the door, locking it behind him before he unfastened his trousers and fell on the bed. He closed his eyes and thought about her lecture as he moved his hand fast, not lasting long at all. After he caught his breath and wiped his hand off, he picked up the quill that was lying on his bedside table and searched for a clean sheet of parchment.

_Dear Harry,_

_Mrs. Weasley stopped by today for my sexual education lesson. Thank you for giving me wanking material for the next decade._

_Your Loving Godson,_

_Teddy_

He read the note over and laughed before he ripped it up and tossed the pieces in the bin. Lying back on his bed, he looked at the ceiling and just grinned for a moment before he reached for his book and turned the volume of the wireless back up.

End


	2. Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s just plain wrong.

It’s just plain wrong.

In fact, it’s probably one of the worst things that Hermione’s done in decades. It doesn’t compare to altering her parents’ memories without permission, something that still causes tension in their relationship all these years later, or to a handful of other incidents after which people occasionally lectured her about ethics. Still, it does call her morals into question and makes her wonder if she‘s working too hard or if she‘s lonelier than she realized. She’s thirty-eight, divorced, a mother of two lovely children, still best friends with her former husband, and successful in a career that she worked her arse off to get over the last twenty years. There’s so very much to lose, which makes her indulgence selfish and risky.

Despite knowing that it’s wrong and that it makes her feel like a dirty old woman, she can’t stop herself. It would be easy to blame the change in her life now that Rose has gone to Hogwarts or the fact that Ron is seeing someone, which hit her far worse than she’d have expected considering they divorced three years ago, but she’s never been one to place her faults on others. She does miss Rose and it does hurt that Ron has moved on, of course, though she knows that neither is a factor in her current obsession.

Obsession. That’s exactly what it is, she decides as she rests her arms on her desk and cradles her head in her hands. It’s obvious that she needs to take time for herself this week while Hugo is visiting Ron and spend a few hours masturbating. Maybe that will get rid of this itch, and she’ll stop daydreaming about her intern. It hasn’t affected her work performance yet, but she worries that she’ll soon start drifting into ridiculous girly fantasies involving a lack of clothes and that strong, young body pressing her against the bookcase while he proves the textbooks about young men and their virility correct.

Oh god. Not helping. She groans and rubs her temples, wondering if her boss would approve a transfer without asking nosy questions or assuming that his job performance wasn’t adequate. If anything, it’s too adequate, which is another issue. She’s known him since he was a baby, after all, and he looks upon her as a doting auntie type, no doubt. He knows she likes just a pinch of lemon in her tea, her coffee black, and biscuits and milk as an indulgence after an exceptionally long day of work during the tougher cases. He also makes sure she eats and goes home in time to get Hugo from Molly’s in the evenings or even offers to do it himself, and she can’t bring herself to dislike him for nagging her when Harry blames that trait of his on her.

‘Is everything okay, Hermione?”

If she doesn’t look at him, she can keep her eyes closed and just listen to the soft, husky voice that makes him sound far older than twenty. _Twenty._ Oh god. Remus would kill her and Tonks would bring her back to life just so she could kill her, too. Not even that. _Harry_ would kill her if he had any idea the thoughts that she’s been having about his godson during the last few months.

Thinking about Harry makes her get control of herself. She looks up and smiles wryly. “Would you believe it was a mental health break?” she asks hopefully, wishing he weren’t so tall and lithe and bloody attractive. Why couldn’t he be brawny, which wasn’t her type at all? Or too pretty for words? Or unintelligent? Or anything that would make her body listen to her brain and put a ‘do not fantasize about’ label on him? Of course, her body didn’t seem to care that she used to babysit him, had changed his nappies, and even given him the ‘sex talk’ five years ago when his grandmother and Harry had both been too embarrassed.

He leans against the wall and smiles before he shakes his head. “Not with that groan,” he tells her. “That’s definitely one of those ‘it’s been a rough day and I need chocolate’ groans. Fortunately for you, you have an amazingly talented and clever intern who happened to make sure you have a supply of chocolate in the top drawer.”

“You’re trying to make me fat,” she scolds, trying to frown at him even as she opens the drawer and finds a piece of chocolate. It’s not sex with a handsome twenty year old, but chocolate is a good substitute.

“You _must_ be feeling ill if you’re actually worried about that nonsense,” he says, looking at her more closely. “Is Hugo okay? I know you mentioned him having a cold but is it worse? Or Rose? Is that Malfoy kid still beating her marks in Transfiguration? If so, tell her I’ll practice more with her during the summer.”

“That’s very sweet, Teddy. I’m sure she’ll like the practice, though I think she’s managed to best Malfoy during the last two exams,” she tells him. “And Hugo’s fine. He’s actually staying with Ron this week, going on a manly camping trip of some sort, though don’t even ask me what the difference in a normal camping trip versus a manly one is because Ron couldn’t explain when I asked.”

“Ted,” he tells her firmly as he enters her office and sits down across the desk from her. “Teddy makes me sound like some silly child. So, if it’s not the kids and it’s not work, then is it Ron? Gram told me he was dating a, uh, well, that he was seeing someone.”

“I’m not in the habit of discussing my personal life at work, even if it is after hours. But, no, it’s not that. I’m glad that Ron is happy,” she says honestly. “I still love him even if we’re no longer _in_ love. When you get older, you’ll understand that better. It’s just been a long week, and I needed a moment. And chocolate.” She holds up the sweet before she pops it into her mouth.

He scowls and shakes his head, running his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. “I’m not a child, Hermione,” he says tightly. “I’m twenty years old, and I know the difference in love and being in love. I thought I loved Victoire for years but I know it’s not real love. I do love her, she’s smashing and beautiful and makes me smile, but that’s not enough, you know? Maybe she’s just too young. Not in age, but in how she sees the world. She can be so immature and spoiled and, well, shallow.”

“I know you’re not a child, Ted. You and Victoire are both young, and you’ve got time to find out what’s between you, whether it’s real or not,” she tells him helpfully, wondering if Harry knows that Teddy might need a good talk with his godfather.

“I don’t need time,” he mutters. He stands up and begins to pace, his hair changing color along with his mood. “Do they think they’ll hate me for breaking it off with her? I mean, I went to Hogsmeade to see her a couple of months ago, and we had a good talk. She’s one of my best friends, even if we weren’t working out romantically, and I think she understood, but will the rest of the family?”

“I think that it doesn’t really matter as long as you’ve spoken to her and the two of you accept things.” He’s making her dizzy with his walking and the rapid hair color change, but she can’t look away. He walks like his father, graceful yet powerful, and she’s again reminded that it’s dangerous to get this close to him. The lines between personal and work have been blurred since he was hired and assigned to her, something she actually protested due to the nature of their familial connection, such as it is, and her own wicked fantasies haven’t helped things at all.

“What if it’s a mistake?” He stops pacing and looks at her, turquoise hair falling across his forehead as he bites his plump lower lip. “What if I’ve ended things because I want something I’ll never be able to have?”

“Then it’s not a mistake. It’s not fair to be with Victoire when she’s not what you want. Anymore than it would have been fair for me and Ron to stay married when we realized we’d become best friends with children instead of feeling that same passion and need we did for so many years. The best choices aren’t always the easiest ones, Ted, but sometimes you have to be brave enough to make them.”

“I was a Hufflepuff, not a Gryffindor,” he reminds her with a sheepish smile. “I just worry a lot. Gram says that my dad did, too, and it made him miserable and unhappy most his life. I don’t want to waste my life never living.”

“Your father was a wonderful man. There are far worse things you could be in this world,” she snaps, a bit more sharply than she intends. She flinches and looks away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that your father was an amazing professor, and he was a good man. He had his faults, of course, but he was caring and loyal and very intelligent. You take after him in so many ways, in more than just that killer smile of yours.”

He hesitates a moment before he speaks quickly. “Did you have a crush on my father?”

“What?” Her eyes widen and she looks at him as she shakes her head. “No, I didn’t. He was a good man, but I only really had eyes for one boy back then. I might have, if I hadn’t fancied Ron, but I was never infatuated with Remus.”

“Thank God,” he murmurs. He looks at the clock that Ron gave her, which says ‘go home already, workaholic’, and smiles. “So, Hugo’s gone for the week?” He turns his attention to her and tilts his head to the side as if he’s studying her. “That means you’ll be working eighteen hour days before stumbling through the Floo with just enough time to grab a snack and sleep a few hours before coming back to work, yeah?”

“Yes, well, I have an important case,” she points out, hating that he has the unbelievable ability to get under her skin and make her feel sixteen years old instead of thirty-eight. Few people in the world have mastered that, yet Teddy managed to by the time he was eight and used to scold her for working while she was supposed to be resting during her pregnancy with Rose. _He’s not much older than your own children, Hermione. Stop this now. Just stop it._

“It won’t be going to trial for months. I think you’re safe if you skive off after working only a couple of hours overtime just once or twice,” he decides. “Besides, if Ron and Hugo are off fishing, then it’s up to me to make sure you’re looked after. I promised Ron, after all.”

“You were six at the time and simply agreed because he promised to take you to a Quidditch match,” she says dryly.

“I’ve never been that fond of Quidditch,” he tells her. “I might only have been six, but I loved spending time with you. You always read me the best books and gave me biscuits when Gram never let me have sweets, and you were pretty, too.”

“You’re such a charmer.” She rolls her eyes and looks at the file awaiting her attention. It’s nearly seven and work ended at five, but she really hates the idea of going home to a quiet house. She doesn’t know what she’ll do when Hugo goes to Hogwarts and the house becomes even more lonely.

“Get that from my mum.” He sits back down, and she can feel him watching her. She glances up and notices that his hair is brown again and a little longer than before. He’s smiling mischievously, which is never a good sign. “I used to want you to be my mum, you know? I even told Gram that before, that I wanted to go live with you and Ron because you’d make great parents.”

“Thanks, I think,” she murmurs, the words as effective as a cold shower. She’s indulging in fantasies about him shagging her on her desk and he’s remembering childhood longings for a mum. Now she feels even more dirty and disgusted with herself. Abruptly, she stands up and picks up a couple of the books neatly stacked on her desk and walks to the bookshelves. “You should go on home, Teddy. It’s getting late, and this case doesn’t need us both to stay late. I promise that I’ll finish up my notes and go home with enough time to eat properly.” _And have a nice wank while I’ve got the house to myself, despite knowing I’ll feel guilty after._

“Well, you weren’t my first choice for a mum,” he admits matter-of-factly. “That was Fleur, because she used to spoil me rotten, and Bill’s just bloody brilliant. Second choice was Ginny, mostly because it’d mean Harry was my father, though she’s great, too. Then there was you.”

“So I was third choice?” She is oddly angry at that, not liking being third best behind beautiful Fleur and feisty Ginny. “I suppose that shows where biscuits and books rate for you.”

“I was six,” he says simply. “And I didn’t have a mother, so I looked for one in every woman I found who wasn’t as old as Gram.” She hears the chair move and then he’s behind her. She keeps her attention on the bookshelf as she searches the titles for the right place for the book in her hand. “I’m not six anymore, Hermione, and I‘m not looking for a mum.”

His breath is warm against her ear, and she unconsciously shivers when she feels him standing so close. “It’s getting late,” she whispers, flinching when she hears the stammer in her voice that hasn’t been present in far too many years. Why does it have to be him, of all people? Why couldn’t it be someone more suitable? Someone who isn’t handsome and far too young for her? She bites her lip hard when he moves his fingers through her hair in a far too intimate way.

“Yes, it is,” he murmurs before his lips suddenly brush against her neck. She gasps, unable to believe he’s really done what she just imagined, and thinks maybe she’s drifted into another fantasy. “You told me once that I need to be brave and go after the things I want in life or risk becoming bitter and resentful for never even trying. So, I’m going after something I want. Some _one_ I want. Have dinner with me?”

For a moment, he sounds uncertain and scared, and he moves his hand down her arm until his fingers brush against her palm. “Teddy, we can’t,” she says softly, moving her fingers through his as she sets the book down and grips the shelf tightly with her free hand.

“Why not?” He squeezes her hand and kisses her neck again. “We’re both of age, both single, and we’re not hurting anyone. Why can’t we have dinner and---”

“Because it’s wrong. I’m eighteen years older than you, you’re my best friend’s godson, and you’re too young to know what you want and I’m old enough to know better.”

“That’s not good enough,” he growls, making her shudder as he presses closer. “I don’t care how old you are or what anyone will say. Besides, Harry told me about my parents, about my father resisting and my mum being strong enough and stubborn enough to not let him use his age as an excuse. I won't let you use a mere eighteen years as an excuse, either. I know you want me, I’ve seen you looking at me when you don’t think I’m watching, and I want you so badly. Please, Hermione? Just dinner, and then you can pat my head and tell me I’m not what you want if you still want to after but, fuck, I deserve a chance, don’t I?”

“Language,” she scolds, trying not to listen to him because he sounds remarkably calm considering the unexpected turn of events. In fact, he sounds much like he did when he tried to convince Harry to get him a broom before he was old enough to have one. Harry hadn’t been able to resist, either. “Ted, you’re not being fair. This isn't like your parents. I mean, it is in a way, oddly enough, but it's not the same situation, so it can't be compared exactly. I have a family, children not much younger than you, in fact, and I can’t just satisfy every urge I happen to get, no matter how consuming. That's reality, not excuses.”

“You know, Gram’s told me that my father was a talker, that he talked too much but that my mum wasn’t that way at all. She was more for taking action than wasting words,” he breathes against her neck. “I foolishly approached this like my father, didn’t I? When I know better. You’re a lot like him in that way, which means we’ll spend hours arguing and rehashing the same objections, my age and how others will see it and concerns that might not even need thinking about yet since we haven’t even had dinner, when, really, we could use the time to have a meal, to go on a real date to see if this chemistry is real or not, then we could argue until you’re flushed and glaring and all I can think about is kissing you.”

Before she can object again, he’s pulling on her hand and turns her, pressing her up against the bookshelves as he looks down at her. His hair is a deep blue, her favorite shade, and he’s smiling as he moves his fingers through her hair. He looks surprised and determined, not a good combination in someone as stubborn as Teddy, and she feels a blush coming on when he stares at her in wonder, like she’s a gift he never expected to have. It’s just a crush, she tells herself, and he can’t possibly mean everything he’s said, but a part of her, the annoying part she tries not to listen to, can’t stop thinking about what it means if he’s sincere.

“Please have dinner with me? I just want a chance, Hermione.” When she slowly nods, he sighs and mutters, “Oh good,” before he stares at her lips. He smiles suddenly, mischievous and wicked, before he lowers his head. “Well, never let it be said that I’m not my mother’s son.” Then he kisses her, shyly at first, as if he’s not sure if she’ll hex him or not, and then more firmly when she doesn’t protest.

When he nips at her lip and moves his hand down her back to gently caress her bum, she parts her lips and begins to return the kiss. She’s pretty sure this is the stupidest thing she’s ever done, but she doesn’t know how something could possibly be so wrong when it feels so right.

End


	3. Procrastination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss is just a kiss.

It’s just dinner.

There’s no need to be nervous or worried. After all, they’ve had dinner together many times over the years. True, the other dinners weren't after Teddy pressed her against the bookshelves and kissed her as if his life depended on it nor had Hermione usually been so dazed and uncertain. Her lips are still tingling from his kiss, which was more passionate and desperate than she’d ever been kissed before. Oh, Ron had wanted her, especially when they were younger, but they’d been such good friends and their passion had been more of a slow burn than a blazing inferno. 

Nothing with Teddy seems to be slow at all, and that scares her in a feminine way that she’s never felt in the past. She’d loved Ron since she was a teenager, and it hadn’t been until months after the last battle at Hogwarts that they’d actually started their relationship in a dating and then making love way. Neither of them had wanted to rush into anything, even though they both knew it was what they wanted, and it hadn’t taken that long for things to progress between them, but it certainly hadn’t been so fast that she couldn’t catch her breath and felt like she very well might sob if she didn’t touch him again.

No, that’s how she feels now, and she doesn’t like it at all. She knows lust is important, but there’s a difference between fantasy and reality. Teddy seems to have a crush of some sort on her, possibly because they’ve been working so closely or he’s aimless after breaking up with Victoire, but it’s not enough for her to be stupid and careless. They kissed, and it was, well, it was amazing. A kiss is just a kiss, though, and she can’t think it means anything more. She’ll have dinner with him, she’ll give him his chance, and then she’ll hope she can walk away without giving in to her desires because there are far too many risks involved for her to do something so rash.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” She blinks at the folders she’s straightening and glances up. “I have to organize my desk before we can go.”

“You’re not organizing, Hermione. You’re staring at the same file while trying to talk yourself out of having dinner with me, most likely. You already agreed, and I’m not going to let you go without a fight,” he says with more than a hint of stubbornness.

“Right now, you remind me of Hugo when he’s not getting pudding with dinner,” she points out dryly. “If you’re trying to make a case for being mature and not a child, you might consider not acting like a spoiled brat who wants to play with his favorite toy.”

“You’re not a toy, and I’m not a brat.” He smiles slightly and looks her over in a way that is far from boyish before he drawls, “Well, you’re not _that_ kind of toy, but I’m open for suggestions elsewhere. I’m very agreeable to exploring any fantasy that you have, you know?”

“Teddy!” She gapes at him even as her cheeks flood with color. She’s flustered, which is highly annoying, and he seems pleased at managing to get to her once again. “You are most certainly a brat, as you’ve just successfully proven.” She scowls at him and shuts her file before stacking it neatly with the others. “I wasn’t going to cancel dinner, for your information. I was just thinking about a variety of things that you should be more concerned about instead of flirting and letting your mind wander to places it shouldn’t.”

“You’re procrastinating and probably have convinced yourself that I’m a naïve young man that you’re wickedly taking advantage of by leading me on with promises of dinner when you very well know you won’t relax and actually try to enjoy being with me because it scares you,” he says thoughtfully. At her arched brow, he smiles smugly and ruffles his violet hair. “I’m not stupid, Hermione, nor do I have trouble observing and forming thoughts on my own. I’m actually quite brilliant when I apply myself, as you’ve said several times in the past.”

“And so very modest,” she adds, shaking her head. They’re not at all well-matched, regardless of their age and work situation, and this just proves it. He’s clever and talented, but he’s also handsome and more than a little arrogant. Not to mention that she analyzes and gives everything careful thought while he’s inherited his mum’s impulsiveness. "Ah, the arrogance of youth."

“Modesty is overrated. Besides, I might be _slightly_ arrogant, but I'm not conceited. They're not exactly the same thing, you know? I know my strengths, and my weaknesses, for the record you’re probably keeping in that gifted mind of yours, but I don’t expect others to praise me without my earning it.”

“I’m not keeping records in my mind,” she denies. “I’m simply wondering when you became so insufferable.”

“Considering the number of people I’ve heard call _you_ insufferable, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He walks over to her desk, his hair fading into a deep burgundy as he puts his hand on hers. “I thought we were past the nerves, Hermione. It’s just dinner. I’m not going to force you to fall for me or anything like that, and I promise I won’t sulk too much if I’m wrong and there’s nothing more between us than attraction. Now, will you stop fussing with your files so we can go eat? My boss is a slave driver, and she’s kept me at work two hours late already.”

“Your boss. God, that’s another reason we shouldn’t do this,” she mutters, trying not to think about how good his hand feels on hers, how large and warm it is, how rough his palms are against her skin. Instead, she thinks about _her_ boss finding out, about him telling everyone she’s been fired for cavorting with an intern, about how disappointed Kingsley would be to hear that she can’t control her hormones after he pulled strings to get her into the department all those years ago. “Kingsley will kill me.”

“I think it would take a lot to drive anyone who's been the Minister of Magic to commit murder,” Teddy says quietly. “Somehow, I don’t think you going to dinner with someone of age who not only consents but has actually had to pursue in order to gain said dinner agreement is just cause. I know it’s not the best of circumstances, but we can figure it out when we need to. I know how much your job means to you, Hermione, and I’d never put it at risk. You know that.”

“No, I know, Teddy, but there are so many reasons why this isn’t a good idea. Can’t you understand that?”

“I do understand. I mean, I waited for months before saying anything because I kept doubting myself or thinking you just considered me one of the children or wouldn’t, uh, say yes because I do hate rejection like most people. And then when I resolved to take the chance, I waited until I was twenty, so you couldn’t argue that I was just a teenager in some flippant manner. This isn’t me being bold and daring, Hermione. I’ve thought about this a lot, in fact, and you’d even be proud to know that I’ve made lists and everything.”

“You made lists?”

He grins and nods. “Oh, yeah. Quite a few lists, in fact. True, the largest pile consists of things I think about doing with you and, uh, well. What can I say? I’m a man. I think about sex a lot. One study claims eighty percent of a man’s thoughts between ages sixteen and twenty-six are about sex in one way or another. So, I’m healthy and normal, and you’re at your sexual peak, which means it’s perfect.”

“You did research?” she squeaks, narrowing her eyes slightly as he looks rather smug. “You quote statistics at me, Lupin, but that doesn’t mean anything more than you obviously not having enough work to keep you busy.”

“Talk about insufferable, as well as obstinate as fuck,” he mutters before he smiles hopefully. “Do I have to kiss you again to distract you from being responsible and continuing to postpone dinner?”

“Language. And no, you don’t have to kiss me again! There’ll be no more kissing or distractions of that nature. Since you refuse to listen to reason, we can go to dinner.” She tries for no-nonsense but worries that she sounds far too breathless at the thought of kissing him again. It’s really most unfair that he’s done this. After months of fantasizing about him, for him to just suddenly launch a sneak attack in order to get a date has left her flustered and nervous. 

The smug git even admitted to having lists and planning this, which means she’s obviously not as observant as she prides herself on being if she completely overlooked the fact that he was making lists of sexual thoughts about her. Bloody hell, she hadn’t even been able to counter that bit of information because he was smirking and looked far too sexy for her to focus on anything beyond wondering what exactly was _on_ the lists.

“I don’t have to, true, but maybe I want to?” he suggests with what she can only describe as a naughty smile. His eyes are a lighter shade of brown than hers, more gentle usually, but tonight, his stare is intense and she can’t quite look away from him. His hair is back to the normal length, long enough that his Gram is always after him to get a haircut but just barely brushing against his shoulders. Instead of one of the many colors of the rainbow, he’s let it go back to its normal brown.

She clears her throat and turns away so she can get her bag. “We should go now,” she says, tightening her grip on her bag when she feels a hand on her shoulder. The leather is soft beneath her fingers, well worn from years of use, and she focuses on it even as her body sways back towards Teddy.

“Let me help,” he murmurs, voice husky beside her as he leans forward and presses against her as he reaches for her bag. His fingers brush against hers, and he sighs as he moves just enough to provide full contact with her back. “You’re right. We should go now.”

She’s oddly disappointed when he takes her bag and steps back. “I’ll just get the lights.” She waves her wand and the candles are extinguished before she hears him move. She’s suddenly pressed against her desk in the dark, and he’s kissing her hungrily, moving his hands down her back and pulling her closer to him as he traces her lips with his tongue. She whines softly and raises her hands, intending to push him away but failing to consider her body is refusing to listen. Today.

Instead, she curls her fingers around the front of his shirt and moves her free hand into his hair, tangling her fingers in the thick locks as she parts her lips for him. She curls her tongue around his, sucking gently as she grips his shirt and hears him whine before he rocks forward. When she feels the evidence of his growing arousal pressed against her leg, she pulls her mouth free from his and tries to regain control. They’re both panting, and one of his hands is on her bum while the other is on her ribs, where he was moving it higher before she pulled back.

“Dinner,” he murmurs against her ear before he licks the lobe and kisses the sensitive skin beneath it. “Do you, uh, have a, um, preference?” He stammers his question in between licks and nibbles that make it impossible to think.

“No preference,” she says, tugging lightly on his hair while she unconsciously rolls her hips up towards him. The sound of a door slamming closed outside the hall startles her and reminds her where they are. She moves quickly, knocking over the files she just organized, and slides off her desk. “Oh God.”

“It’s okay, Hermione. I’ll fix the files.” He lights his wand and kneels down, long fingers brushing against the paperwork in a way that makes her skin tingle and her nipples harden. She shifts awkwardly and tries to regain control. How can she possibly have dinner with him when she was just writhing against him on her own bloody desk? He glances up and smiles as he stands and holds out his hand. “All fixed. As for dinner, I think I know the perfect place. Trust me?”

His voice is hesitant and unsure even as he smiles confidently. Her heart is racing, her knickers are already damp, and her lips are still wet from their kisses. He’s giving her a chance to refuse, she realizes, and it’s obviously not something he wants to do but the fact that he is means a lot to her. Slowly, she nods and puts her hand in his. “I trust you, Teddy.”

The relief he feels is evident in the way his body seems to lose some of the tension and the way he grins widely as he curls his fingers around hers. “Ted,” he tells her firmly before he ends the Lumos and leads her out of the office. “I know that you like Italian, so I’ll take you to one of my favorite restaurants. It’s Muggle and close to my flat, so I eat takeaway from there a lot.”

“You’ve been Teddy for twenty years. I think it’ll take me awhile to adapt to you wanting to be called Ted now,” she points out. “And Italian sounds great. I’m actually rather hungry now that I think about it.”

He glances at her and smiles. “Oh, I’m absolutely ravenous, but I can wait to fully sate my hunger. For now, Italian is good. After that, well, we’ll see.”

“Incorrigible,” she mutters, knowing full well from the look he’s just given her that he’s not talking about being ravenous for food at all. She releases his hand before they leave her office and takes her bag from him. When he starts to protest, she shakes her head and walks to the lift. “I appreciate the gallantry, but I’m not a schoolgirl wanting her books carried to class by a handsome popular boy, so I can certainly carry my own bag.”

“You think I’m handsome?” he asks, flashing a teasing grin as he nudges his hip against hers. “I knew it. You’re just after me for my body, aren’t you? I should probably feel used, but, alas, I’m far too willing to be taken advantage of by you. And, you know, my stamina will make up for the lack of muscle, unless you want me to change---”

“No,” she says firmly, catching his gaze as she frowns at him. “I don’t want you to change for me. I quite like you just the way you are, arrogance and all.”

“Oh. Well, uh, right,” he murmurs, looking sheepish as he glances at the ground and smiles shyly. “Some girls would want more, you see, and I’m able to change pretty easily.”

“If any girl isn’t happy with you just as you are, then she doesn’t deserve you in the first place,” she tells him honestly. “Your ability is amazing, of course, but it shouldn’t be used to change who you really are or to become someone else.”

The lift arrives, and they step on before he says anything. “It is an amazing gift, and it can be fun sometimes, but you’re right. I never really thought of it that way. So, you don’t mind that I’m tall and bordering on the skinny side of muscular? I'm still quite fit, even if you can't really tell beneath all these clothes. Guess I could take them off later to prove it, if I must.” He sighs dramatically and winks, deliberately teasing now that they're in the privacy of the lift. He smirks and reaches up to brush her hair back from her face, fingers lingering a moment too long to simply be casual. ”I wasn’t lying about my stamina, by the way.”

“I think you’re lovely just the way you are, Teddy. Ted,” she says, feeling more comfortable than she has since he entered her office earlier. In fact, by the time the lift arrives in the lobby, she feels almost daring, in her own way. Smiling mischievously as the doors of the lift open, she speaks softly despite the lobby being empty so there's no real danger of anyone overhearing. “And I think those statistics of yours are wrong because it seems to be far more than 80 percent of the time. Fortunately for you, the research about a woman my age was accurate. You’d need that stamina, should things progress to such a level, because I’d most definitely wear you out.” 

With a smug smile of her own at his look of pleased surprise, she steps off the lift and decides to stop worrying and focus on enjoying dinner. Whatever happens after that, if anything, can be worried about later.

End


	4. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy have dinner

“That’s not fair.”

“Who told you that life is fair?”

“No one, but I can have expectations, can’t I?”

“The problem with having expectations is that you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

“That’s a rather dire look at life, isn’t it? Besides, you’re lying. You have expectations, too, or you wouldn’t spend so much time making lists and planning out your days.”

“Just twenty and already an expert on human nature.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic, Hermione. Not everyone can be as observant as me. Now quit trying to distract me from my argument that you were just completely unfair.”

“As I. And an argument would indicate that you have some sort of case, Ted. As it is, you’ve done nothing but whine about life being fair when it most certainly isn’t.”

“Right. I. _Anyway_ , I don’t whine.” Hermione glances at him and arches a brow, pursing her lips as she begins to catalog examples of Teddy-whinage. He shakes his head, his hair turning a pale orange. “Okay, perhaps I’ve whined once or twice, but this isn’t whining. This is being helpful and pointing out that you were just flirting with me and didn’t give me a chance to flirt back.”

“I was not flirting,” she denies, looking around the lobby quickly to ensure that it was, indeed, empty. “I simply pointed out the error in your research.”

“By flirting.”

She rolls her eyes and stops herself before she begins to bicker with him. She’s far too old for such nonsense, so she gives him a superior look and proceeds out the door. It‘s a rather pretty spring day, and she‘s happy to see that it‘s not raining at the moment. The forecast predicted light showers throughout the day. She takes a breath of reasonably fresh London air and listens for footsteps behind her. When there isn’t the sound of a closing door, she bites her lip and wonders if she should turn to look.

After a couple of minutes pass and she can’t very well stand waiting without possibly looking stupid, should anyone happen to walk by, she glances over her shoulder. The door’s open, which explains why she didn’t hear it shut, but Teddy isn’t anywhere to be seen. Had it been anyone else, she’d think all this had been nothing more than a prank. However, regardless of his playfulness and sense of humor, Teddy isn’t the type for such cruel jokes.

“Did you miss me?”

She squeaks and turns her head quickly to find Teddy standing in front of her. He’s smirking and looks pleased with himself, which frustrates her. “Like a bad cold,” she says dryly, telling herself that her racing heartbeat is because he startled her and not because he’s standing so close she can smell him.

“Alas, you can’t get rid of me with a simple over-the-counter potion,” he says smugly. He waves his wand, and she hears the door close behind her. “And you were, too, flirting.”

“Was not,” she mutters before she starts to walk. She takes a few steps and stops, turning to look at him. She smiles sheepishly as she reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Hmm?” He glances up and his hair turns bright red for a moment before it fades to a burnt orange. She feels her cheeks flood with heat when she realizes he’s been staring at her bum. “Oh, right. Food. Do you want to Apparate or take the tube?”

Apparating would require being close to him, which might not be the wisest decision to make at the current time, but riding the tube would take awhile, and she’s actually pretty hungry now that food is in her near future. He looks a little too eager as he rocks back on his heels and smiles innocently. It’s the smile that does it. “I suppose we should take the tube.”

“I knew you’d say that,” he says as he walks towards her. “Fortunately, I don’t live too far away. It’ll just take three tube connections to get there, and the restaurant doesn’t accept bookings, so we’ll probably get there at the height of their dinner rush, but we have all night, so who cares if it takes a lot of time. It’s Friday, after all, and you're child free for a week, and I’m a man of leisure.”

“Fine. We’ll Apparate.” She narrows her eyes when he grins, hating that he basically won that round. Not that they’re fighting or keeping score. But, still, she knows he just got her back for denying she was flirting, the git. Not that she _was_ flirting. She’s horrid at that sort of thing, so she avoids doing it if possible.

“I knew you’d say that, too,” he murmurs. He steps closer and drags his bottom lip into his mouth as he looks at her and then looks around. When he looks back at her, he seems resigned. “No one’s around, but do you prefer going somewhere more private before we Apparate? I, uh, don’t want you uncomfortable or anything.”

“I think our reputations can withstand a sighting of dual Apparation, Ted.” She’s not too concerned about being seen doing that activity. After all, it’s common enough that no one would likely think anything of it. It’s other things that she doesn’t want seen, the hand holding and most definitely the kissing, for instance. Besides, she’s not ashamed of having dinner with him, and he looks very much like he thinks she is, which just isn’t right.

“Great.” He grins and steps closer to her. “I could just take your arm, of course, but I’m cunning enough to take advantage of this situation.”

“So cunning that you’re telling your intended victim your evil scheme?”

“Victim is such a harsh word. I prefer prey, because it brings to mind hunters and sleek, sexy beasts instead of photographs that Harry always has on his desk.”

“I think that both are inappropriate terms when one is discussing dinner with a friend.”

“Well, yes, but you think too logically, which is highly annoying sometimes.”

“So I’ve been told. Repeatedly.”

“We need to do something about that, Hermione. Perhaps reintroduce you to the term spontaneous.”

“Are we going to go for dinner or stand here listening to you use your impressive vocabulary all evening?”

“Since you said I’m impressive,” he holds up his hand and shakes his head, “no take backs since I heard 'you' and 'impressive' coming from those pretty lips. Anyway, since I’m so impressive, we’ll go have dinner, so I can attempt to charm you into agreeing that age is merely a number that we shouldn’t be bothered with when the alternative is happiness. And great sex.”

Before she can even gasp at such a claim, he moves his arms around her and pulls her against him. He’s actually a little taller than Ron, so she fits against him with enough space for him to lean down and rest his chin on her head, if he wants. There’s a familiar tug as he Apparates them near his flat, though he doesn’t let go immediately after they arrive in an alley.

“You can let go now,” she tells him, cringing when she hears the breathless tone in her voice. While it’s been a little over three years since she’s had sex, it’s not been something she’s particularly missed because she can take care of her own needs well enough. With the children, it hasn’t been feasible to have anything casual, and she’s not found anyone who interested her enough to attempt something less casual. However, the way her hormones are currently behaving makes her think they’ve staged a coup and have taken over body.

“I could,” he agrees, moving his hand down her back until he caresses her bum and then he moves his hand back up to play with the end of her braid. “Just because I could doesn’t necessarily mean I should.”

“Teddy, we should go eat, if only because I’m starving and this alley smells like urine.”

“And a surefire way to ruin a mood is to mention urine smelling alleys.”

“Well, it does! You can really only blame yourself since you’re the one who brought us here. Not a very good way to impress a woman you’re attempting to woo.”

“Woo?” He grins widely as he looks down at her. “Is that what I’m doing? God, that sounds like something Gram would say.”

“Oh, just shut up,” she mutters.

“I was just teasing,” he says, losing his smile as he shifts awkwardly. “I like that you’re letting me woo you. It’s a good word.”

“It’s a rather archaic term but it sounds more respectable than seduce.”

“If seduction is done right, I doubt anyone would call it respectable.”

“You haven’t let go yet.”

“I know. Don’t want to, really. Unfortunately, you’re starting to scowl, which means you’re hungry and getting cranky.”

“I don’t get cranky.” She rolls her eyes when he arches a brow and snorts and then smiles slightly. “Okay, perhaps I’ve been cranky once or twice, but this isn’t me being cranky.”

He laughs, his hair turning violet before he leans down and kisses her. It’s just a smack of his lips against hers, but it makes her belly flop in a dangerous way. “We’ll go eat now,” he says, focusing for a moment until his hair becomes brown again. “The restaurant is just down the road. Will I get chastised if I try to hold your hand or should I not push my luck right now?”

“I think you’ve pushed your luck quite a bit already,” she tells him after a moment of consideration. It’s just dinner, and she honestly expects for him to realize by the end of it that his feelings for her are just a crush. 

It’s much different to actually speak with someone and have a conversation versus lusting from afar, so to speak, so she doubts he’s very interested once he remembers that she’s a rather dull workaholic mother of two with interests in magical creature’s rights and fun things like knitting and gardening. He’ll most likely be bored before the meal ends. Despite knowing the probability reality of having dinner with him, a part of her is disappointed that it can’t be something more, even though she knows it’s far too risky and complicated to even consider.

“Right. No hand holding,” he says, smiling even though he sounds disappointed. “You’re a tough woman, Hermione Weasley...Granger-Weasley.”

“The best things in life are rarely easy, Teddy,” she tells him with just a hint of smugness. She's also rather pleased that he's one of the few who actually ever gets her name right.

He grins and bumps his hip against hers before he finally leads her out of the smelly alley. “Now who sounds arrogant?” he asks, glancing up at the sky before he focuses on the road. “Nice night out. By the way, I think we need to discuss a punishment system for every time you call me Teddy instead of Ted.”

“Yes, it’s lovely out tonight. And what sort of punishment?” She frowns at him slightly. “I don’t think punishment is appropriate when someone changes their nickname after twenty years.”

“I was thinking that every time you call me Teddy, you earn a swat to your bum,” he continues as if she didn’t speak, though he glances at her out of the corner of his eyes in a way she knows means he’s nervous. “And if you get it right, you earn a kiss. Perhaps by the end of the night, you’ll have quite a few rewards waiting.”

“There will be no swatting of bums, so you can stop those particular thoughts right now,” she warns, having to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his oh so very male suggestion. “If you continue to sulk anytime I mistakenly call you Teddy, which is a very nice name, by the way, then you can forget any kisses, too.”

He runs his hand through his hair, and she notices a flash of turquoise that fades back to brown. “So, you’re saying that my suggestion is inappropriate because it means swatting your bum, but you’re now using the threat of no more kisses in order to get me to stop thinking about your bum. Is that what your sneaky attempt at coercion really means?”

“I’m not being sneaky,” she says. “There are no threats, either. After all, we’re just two friends having dinner, so there might not even be kisses in the future anyway. God, I can’t believe I’m arguing about hypothetical kisses with you.”

“They’re only hypothetical if you resist my charm and wit,” he points out helpfully. “So, in theory, it’s not so difficult to believe that you’re thinking about kissing me. I am handsome, after all, as you said yourself not long ago, and very clever.”

“I didn’t realize that you had such a high opinion of yourself, _Ted_. In fact, I’d always thought you were rather humble.”

“This isn’t really normal. I mean, you think that I’m just a kid, so I have to remind you of my good qualities since I can’t very well add fifteen years to my age. If I wasn’t having to use my one chance to woo you by making myself irresistible, I’d not be talking about me much at all. Much more interesting things to talk about.”

She looks at him and realizes he’s serious. “You don’t have to do that. I’m well aware that you’re nice looking and bright. You saying it or not saying it isn’t going to change your personality. Well, if you say it too much then you’ll just start to sound full of yourself, so I suppose that’s not necessarily a true statement.”

“You’re pretty cute when you start rambling about logic, you know?” He tugs on the end of her braid and smiles before he motions to an awning ahead of them. “There’s the restaurant. I hope you’re hungry, because their servings are huge. You’ll not want to move after eating, and you’ll feel incredibly lazy for several hours.”

“Thank you for the warning. Right now, I think I can successfully eat everything on my plate,” she says, smiling when he opens the door for her. She shifts the strap of her bag on her shoulder and steps inside, immediately surrounded by the smell of garlic and oregano. Her tummy rumbles, and she’s pleased that there’s not anywhere near a crowd like Teddy hinted there might be. A hostess greets them and leads them to a table in the back.

Teddy moves ahead of her and holds out her chair, smiling charmingly when she shakes her head. After she sits down, she takes the menu and scans the beverages before ordering a glass of wine. Teddy orders the same before he stretches his long legs beneath the table, brushing against hers before he moves slightly to the side.

“Everything I’ve ever had here is good, but the lasagna is probably my favorite,” he tells her before he scans his menu. “Though the ziti is really good, too.”

“Lasagna actually sounds quite nice,” she decides, noticing there’s a three cheese lasagna that sounds really tasty. “What are you having?”

“I think I’m going to have veal parmesan,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “Or the ziti. I’ll decide before our drinks get back.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Either one sounds quite good. I’m starving,” she admits, closing her menu and looking around. It’s a nice restaurant, small and quaint, and candlelight adds a nice atmosphere. She looks across the table at Teddy and smiles. “Dinner was a good idea, regardless of what happens after.”

Before he can say anything, the waitress brings their wine and a basket of breadsticks that are calling her name. She swears she can hear them begging for her to eat them, so she reaches for one as soon as they finish ordering. They’re hot and slick with buttery grease, and one bite confirms that they’re delicious.

“Good, aren’t they?” he asks, shifting in his chair as he stares at her.

She smiles sheepishly when she realizes she’s been moaning and nods. “Yes, they are.”

He returns her smile and takes one for himself. She watches him rip off a piece and toss it in his mouth before he licks garlic butter from his fingers. “They’re also more than a little messy.”

“I noticed,” she murmurs, taking a drink of her wine as she looks away from his wet lips. “How’s your grandmother doing? I need to stop by for tea sometime soon. It’s been far too long since I have.”

“Gram’s Gram. She stays busy and still finds time to Floo call me so she can nag about remembering to do my laundry and cleaning the toilet. You’d think I hadn’t lived on my own for two years now, the way she goes on sometimes.”

“She only nags because she loves you. At least, that’s what I plan to tell Hugo and Rose whenever they get tired of my nagging.”

“Oh, I know. She’s smashing, really, but it always amuses me. My flat’s so tiny that it doesn’t really take a lot to keep it tidy, you know? George paid enough for me to cover rent and utilities on something small, and I don’t make much more as an intern. It’s enough space for me, so I don’t really care right now, but I eventually want something bigger.”

“You’re still young enough that a one bedroom flat is enough space,” she says. “My first flat gave tiny a new definition. I swear, there was barely enough room for Harry and Ron to visit for Sunday brunch. I didn’t mind, though, because it was all mine. I actually missed it later, when Ron and I first married. He was working for George, like you used to, while he was training, and I was barely making anything in Magical Creatures, so we couldn’t afford anything too grand at the time. It suited us, I suppose, but I was relieved when we both finally got promotions and could afford something better.”

“George is a good boss, but I’m glad that I’m working somewhere with more of a future now,” he tells her. “It took me time to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life, and I think I know now. Working as an intern has taught me a lot, you know? I’ve been able to evaluate things and decide what suits me and what doesn’t.”

“How did you get interested in law?” It’s something she’s actually never asked him, but she’s always been curious. Since they’re drinking wine and conversing over delicious breadsticks, it seems a good time to get nosy.

“I don’t really know,” he admits. “I’m not really sure it’s for me, for a career, but I guess it seemed a good opportunity to find out how I like it. I want to make a difference, do some good to balance all the bad in the world, and I’ve always admired you. No, I don’t mean in a way that has anything to do with my, uh, feelings.” He smiles shyly and runs his fingers through his hair. She hopes that his hand is clean because, otherwise, his hair will get buttery now. “Harry is always really proud of you whenever you win a case, which is quite a lot, and I spent a lot of years hearing what a difference you were making in our world. It appealed to me, the idea that maybe I could help people, too.”

“Harry likes to brag about his friends,” she murmurs, smiling fondly as she thinks about him. “But he makes a huge difference, too. The department, under his leadership, has become phenomenal. What made you choose legal instead of enforcement?”

“I don’t want to catch people committing crimes,” he says simply. “That’s not for me at all. No offense to Harry or Ron, but I’m just not the type of person who would get satisfaction from that, you know? I want to help prevent the crimes, if I can, and I’d really like to help make sure everyone’s treated fairly.”

“Law doesn’t always guarantee that we can do that, though,” she says. “It can be frustrating to _know_ someone is guilty of something and be unable to do a bloody thing about it. It used to get me too much, honestly, but I’ve had to learn how to step back. I’m surprised Ron put up with my moods for so many years before I learned that separation. Once I had children, though, I just couldn’t bring work home with my moods because they’re attuned to subtle differences like that.”

“I know. That’s one reason why I’m not sure it suits me best. I mean, you do amazing things. You’re able to help defend people who deserve the help, and your efforts to get legislation changed are brilliant. I don’t know if I’m patient enough to wait for the system to work, though. That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I love the work I’m doing with your department, but I just don’t know if I can see myself happy at it in ten years.”

“It doesn’t sound terrible, Teddy. It took me a few years before I found somewhere that felt comfortable and right for me. I loved my work with magical creatures, and everything I was able to do there. In fact, the idea of being in law was appalling to me back then. Then I realized just how much I could actually do with the right focus and effort, and it was a great match. You have to try things sometimes before you‘ll know what fits you, I guess. I understand what you‘re saying, and I do hope you find something that fits you better eventually.”

He nods and smiles. “I think I will. For now, it’s a good job, and my boss is brilliant, so I don’t have any complaints.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Lupin. You still have to reorganize the latest case files and transcribe the depositions by next Friday.”

“I don’t mind the organizing, but the transcription is a pain in the arse.” He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I said arse. You don’t have to scold me for bad language.”

“It’s just habit,” she says defensively. “Even more so since I had Rose and Hugo. Ron’s language is quite foul on a good day, so I developed the habit of pointing it out when we were young. Now, I tend to do it without even realizing it.”

“It’s okay. I actually think it’s charming, mostly because you _don’t_ realize you’re doing it.” He bites his lip again and stares at her mouth before he looks away. Their food arrives, and they lapse into comfortable silence as they begin to eat. The lasagna is just as good as he promised and also a large enough serving for two people easily.

By the time she’s finished half her meal, she’s on her second glass of wine and they’re talking intermittently about work and family. It’s a relaxing meal, one of the better evenings she’s had in awhile that didn’t involve spending time with her children, and she’s glad that she accepted his invitation. The reason they’re having dinner and the undeniable question of their attraction to each other lurks around them, but it’s surprisingly easy to just lose herself in talking and the meal. Still, when he accidentally moves his leg against hers or their hands touch when they reach for bread, the attraction flares up and they both drift off for a moment before they pick up where they left off.

It isn’t until they leave the restaurant, after she insists on paying her share since it’s not an official date, that he brings up the one thing they didn’t discuss during the nearly two hours they sat talking and eating. He says it casually as they’re walking towards his flat so she can Floo home, and she misses a step because she doesn’t expect him to be quite so blunt and open about it.

“You know, there are no rules or laws that say what is and isn’t the right age difference between two people who connect. There are plenty of old men with younger women on their arm, and society barely even bats an eyelash. That’s in both worlds, actually. I know it’s not necessarily traditional and that we’re not really usual considering our close history, but I really don’t see how age can be an issue.”

“There are a lot of issues with the concept of us dating and being involved, Ted,” she murmurs. “Age is just one factor. While society, as a whole, might be quite tolerant with age differences, I’m not sure it’s something that _I_ can overlook, no matter how mature you are for your age. I have children who aren‘t much younger than you, and your godfather is my best friend. It‘s just complicated, not to mention that a generic society isn‘t at all our family and close friends, which makes things far more personal and complex.”

“So, it doesn’t matter what I want or even what you want?” he asks. “Because some people might whisper about us and say nasty things, you’ll just ignore the possibility that we might make a good match? I don’t want to do anything to hurt your kids, Hermione. I adore them, you know? I just think that we’re worth the risk of at least trying. We might not be meant for each other, so you could end up being right all along, but I can’t stop thinking about you and wanting to try.”

“It’s not that easy,” she points out. “I don’t know what the right choice is, in all honesty, and you were right earlier. It does scare me. It’s been longer than you’ve even been alive since I worried about dating or wasn’t in love with Ron. I’m nearly forty and have a job that takes up a lot of my time and two children who take up the rest of it. You’re young and could honestly have your choice of many suitable young women. Not to mention the fact that I used to change your nappies and watched you grow up from a baby into the man you are today. Those are frightening things to consider along with everything else.”

“I know, Hermione. If I didn’t believe that what I feel for you is real, I’d never have started all this. I might be impulsive in some areas of my life, but I’m not when it comes to relationships and personal things. If anything, I’m too cautious there. I just don’t want to always wonder ‘what if’ or risk never having something that was right for me.”

She sighs and shakes her head, following him into his building as she thinks about everything that‘s happened tonight. For once, she has no idea what to do or say. A part of her wants to say bugger it all and go for it, but there are so many factors, and she just can’t do something that rash when it _will_ affect others, most importantly her children. She doesn’t want to end up sneaking around for casual shags, and she really doesn’t want to end up getting hurt. The latter is something foremost in her mind, because it’s hard to consider any possibility that could come from all this that wouldn’t result in things ending eventually.

He doesn’t say anything as they climb the three flights of stairs to reach his flat. She’s been here before, but she’s never been more aware of the little things as she is now. The book lying on the sofa where he’s been reading, his trainers by the door, his shirt lying on the back of his chair, and various other small things that just remind her of him and make the space feel like a home.

“You’ve really done wonders with your space,” she says softly. 

He looks at her and shrugs, running his hand through his hair as it becomes dark blue. “It’s a bit messy, but I try to keep it neat.” He shifts nervously and says, “Thank you for having dinner with me tonight.”

“Thank you for asking,” she murmurs. She walks over to him and kisses his cheek. “I had a lovely time, Teddy. Really.”

“So did I,” he whispers before he turns his head and brushes his lips against hers. Her resolution to leave and put an end to this madness is temporarily forgotten as he moves his arms around her and pulls her closer. His hand is shaking, she realizes when she feels it against her neck before he deepens the kiss. When he pulls back, he caresses her cheek and traces the curve of her jaw with his thumb. “Can I see you again?”

She reaches up to touch his hand and moves her head so she can kiss his palm. “We shouldn’t,” she sighs, closing her eyes for a moment as she just enjoys the feel of him against her.

“Maybe not, but we can,” he says, moving his hand to rest at the small of her back.

“I don’t know if I can,” she admits quietly, opening her eyes to look up at him. “I’m not sure if I can take the risk but I’m also no longer certain that I can just go back to how things were before because it’s all changed now, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t want to go back,” he admits. “I want you to take a chance so we can see what happens. Can I see you again?”

“You see me every weekday for work and during family functions,” she murmurs, smiling wryly as she reaches up to brush his hair back from his face.

“Please, Hermione?”

She bites her lip and shakes her head slightly. “I should go home,” she says, leaning up to kiss him lightly before she walks to the fireplace. She tosses in the Floo powder and calls out her address. Instead of stepping through, she grips the mantle for a moment and tries to make sense of all the things running through her mind at the moment. There are too many thoughts, but she can’t help feeling like she’s made a mistake. It’s illogical and foolish, but she can feel it in her gut. 

She looks over her shoulder and sees him staring at her, looking helpless and frustrated, which suits how she feels. “Yes,” she whispers, watching his eyes widen before he starts to smile. “God, I know it’s wrong and we shouldn’t, but yes, you can see me again in this way. Good night, Teddy.” 

She steps through the Floo before she can change her mind or give in to the urge to kiss him more. When she steps out into her sitting room, she goes and sits on the sofa, pulling her legs up so she can rest her chin on her knees while she thinks about everything that’s happened in the last few hours. It started with a lurid fantasy about someone inappropriate and somehow she now finds herself having agreed to a real date with a man eighteen years her junior. She groans and pulls a pillow over her face as she wonders when life became so bloody complicated.


	5. Suggestion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy drops by to surprise Hermione

There’s no such thing as sleeping in anymore.

Of course, Hermione can’t remember a time when she actually stayed in bed late on weekends just because she could. Lying in bed with nothing to do is tedious, so she always get up and starts her day whatever time she wakes. When she and Ron first married, there were occasionally reasons to actually stay in bed, but that was before the kids were born. Now, she’s generally awake, showered, and holding her first cup of coffee in time to watch the sunrise.

Today is no exception. After waking from a surprisingly restful sleep, she's already showered and has coffee in hand as she starts to work on some of the files she brought home last night. Her work isn’t as productive as it usually is when Ron has the children, but she knows that she’s to blame for that this morning. Her mind keeps drifting to last night, to Teddy and the kisses and the complications that have her itching to start making lists. Perhaps if she sees everything on paper in a neat, organized ‘Pro’ and ‘Con’ list, she’ll be able to strengthen her resolve.

Even as she thinks about doing that, she remembers the feel of his lips against hers and the warmth of his body as he pressed close to her. With a quick shake of her head, knowing all too well that she’ll waste another fifteen minutes daydreaming if she continues along that line of thought, she picks up her coffee and takes a sip. The case she’s working on isn’t very difficult, in theory, but the notes are a mess and the statements aren’t even written up yet. Once she has everything in order, then she’ll be able to evaluate everything and hazard a guess on the expected outcome so she can begin to prepare her case.

She’s just finished making a rough chart with the names of the people involved when she hears a knock on the door. She glances at the clock and frowns, trying to think who she knows that would be visiting at eight on a Saturday morning. She can’t think of anyone offhand. Suddenly, she realizes that Ron and Hugo are off doing who knows what in the wilderness. Immediately, she gets up and rushes to the door, hoping it’s anyone but an Auror or constable informing her of an accident.

When she opens the door, she feels a wave of relief at first, happy that it’s someone familiar instead of bad news. Then she blinks and stares at Teddy, who’s holding a brown paper bag and balancing a tray with two cups of coffee. He smiles sheepishly when she looks at him and shrugs as he shakes his head, getting his turquoise hair out of his eyes for the moment.

“Good morning,” he says, holding out the bag and coffee. “I come bearing breakfast and caffeine, perhaps with the hope that said tasty items will distract you from any annoyance you might feel at being disturbed so early in the morning, even by someone as loveable as I.”

“Coffee can only go so far, Lupin,” she tells him. “You’re lucky that I was already awake, or I might have shown you just how cranky I can be.”

“It might have been worth it to see you fresh from sleep with your hair all wild and to find out what you wear to bed,” he says with a cheeky grin.

“Who says I wear anything at all?” she asks, pleased to see him gape at the idea in a way that makes her feel quite desirable. Of course, the reality of her wearing an old pair of boxer shorts that she nicked from Ron and a T-shirt that Luna sent her from the Galapagos probably isn’t what he has in mind at all.

“Evil woman,” he mutters, a very faint hint of a blush on his cheeks as he looks her over and smiles. “Next time, I’ll have to surprise you even earlier. For research, of course. I have to be thorough before forming an opinion on your sleeping attire, after all, or lack thereof.”

“It’s too early in the morning to deal with you. You’d better be glad you brought food, or I’d be hexing you by now.”

“You wouldn’t hex me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Well, maybe you would, but I’d have to do something far worse than ogle you and leer a bit. Women don’t necessarily admit to liking to be leered at, because of some feminism stuff, but I’d think a woman would appreciate being attractive to someone enough for them _to_ leer. You women just don’t make a lot of sense, you know?”

“While men are so basic and obvious that it doesn’t require much thought at all to figure you out, in a general sense. It's a wonder we women even put up with you lot. And, for the record, there's a difference in an appreciative glance and a leer. While one can be flattering, the other can be creepy, depending on circumstances.”

“I’m not simple. Obvious, maybe, but not simple. I have layers and mysteries for some lucky woman to uncover. Want to uncover me? You can start with my shirt, if you must. I don't mind creepy leers when they're from you.”

“Right. You’re the epitome of an enigma.” She snorts and steps aside. “Well, are you going to come inside or stand there tempting me with your unmarked bag of promised food? Your shirt can stay on.”

“Since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can come in. Though, you know, you could give a bloke a complex. Wanting the pastries but not for me to take my shirt off? I’m really hurt and possibly offended.”

“Pastries don’t talk back and have an attitude at eight in the morning. It‘s really no comparison at all. Simply logic, dear boy.”

“And there you go using the ‘L’ word. It’s too early for _logic_ ,” he says as he enters the house. He walks over to the table and puts the bag and tray down while she shuts the door. She's relieved that she and Ron chose a house off to itself without nosy neighbors who would wonder why she was being visited so early by a young man with blue hair.

“It’s never too early for logic,” she informs him primly. “Only someone who prefers to think in abstract terms would ever say such a thing.”

“I’m actually far more of a linear thinker and I quite like logic sometimes, but there’s more to life than logic.” He turns and smiles as he steps forward to meet her on her way to the table. “Morning,” he murmurs, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. She’s about to remind him that he already said that when he moves closer and leans down, brushing his lips against hers. The kiss is hesitant at first and then he presses his lips more firmly against hers.

The kiss deepens, his tongue curling around hers as soon as she parts her lips and allows him access. She makes an odd noise that startles her as she presses closer to him, ignoring the voice in her head warning her to stop. When she feels his hand on her back, she finally pulls away before it can go any further. She’s breathing hard and her hand is on his chest, though she doesn‘t remember putting it there. She drops her hand and licks her lips before she looks up at him. “Why are you here, Ted?”

“Do you want the truth or a glib yet charming reply that might make me sound less of a pathetic tosser?”

“The truth, of course.”

He sighs and smiles wryly as he walks to the table and sits down. “I woke up early and couldn’t stop thinking about you. I just wanted to see you, so I bought breakfast and thought I’d drop by to see if you’re free today. I’d like to spend some time with you, maybe do something spontaneous.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t expect him to actually be that honest, but it’s refreshing, even if he seems embarrassed at his admission. What’s she supposed to say to that? She joins him at the table and takes her seat before she starts to gather her paperwork and notes. Once she has everything organized, she glances at him. “I’ve been thinking about you today, too.”

“You have?” He looks up and smiles. “That’s good. I mean, that I’m not the only one thinking about you. Or me. Or us, that is.”

“I’m not sure how good it is at all,” she admits, accepting the cup of coffee from him. Before she starts rambling about the same concerns she had last night, she decides to change the subject. “Are you normally awake this early on weekends?”

He sips his coffee and nods. “I’m fonder of early mornings than late nights. I suppose it’s because Gram was always up so early when I was growing up, which means the only chance I had to really sleep in was at school or whenever I stayed over with Harry. By the time I went to school, though, I was already in the habit of waking early, and it’s not something I’ve outgrown. What about you? I’d have thought you’d take advantage of having the house to yourself this weekend.”

“I’ve always been an early riser, even as a child. I like to spend the morning getting things done,” she says. “Today has been unusual, though, because I can’t really focus, so I’m not actually accomplishing very much at all.”

“Unable to focus?” He hands her a croissant from the bag and grins. “Any specific reason why?”

“I think we both know why,” she says. She rips off a piece of the croissant and eats it while she considers how much she actually wants to say. “Last night was unexpected, Teddy. I honestly still don‘t know what to think about everything, and I‘m really conflicted about so many things right now.”

“I can’t focus, either, but I’m a lot happier about it than you seem to be.” He reaches across the corner of the table and brushes her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear before he traces her jaw. “I know you’re worried, Hermione. I thought about it a lot last night and this morning when I was out walking. I understand, you know? But I’m really glad you’re willing to give us a chance.”

“It’s not that I’m unhappy. I wouldn’t have agreed to see you again if I hadn’t enjoyed last night. It’s also more than just an attraction, which might be another reason I’m concerned. One of many, it seems.”

“Why would that upset you? I'd think it was a good thing instead of something that causes you to frown.”

“Because lust is one thing while more than lust is something else entirely. Are you sure this isn’t just a crush? It’s not that I don’t believe you, but maybe you’re confusing desire with a want for something more.”

“I know how I feel. I’ve lusted after girls before, even fancied myself in love once or twice, and this isn’t the same. It’s more than those fleeting feelings and thoughts about shagging. I showed up at your house this morning because I wanted to see you, and I think about you so much that it’s almost embarrassing. If it was just a crush, I wouldn’t feel so bloody needy.”

He sounds sincere but she really can’t understand why he’d be so interested in her. Even without the age difference, she’s not very exciting or alluring. No matter how much she thinks about it, she really can’t figure out why he’d want her. It’s not even insecurity talking, because she knows she’s got good qualities that appeal to some people and that those outweigh the negative. They’re just not really things that she’d necessarily think would attract someone like Teddy, in all honesty.

“I don’t mean to keep on about the same things constantly, but these issues are on my mind, and I can’t just pretend everything’s fine and perfect just because we’re both attracted to each other. I am willing to try a date, though, and we’ll see how things go, I guess. We might be spending all this time thinking for no reason. Whatever happens, we’ll still be friends, right?”

“Of course,” he promises. He looks down and his hair changes to a deep purple before he looks back up at her. “Will you spend the day with me? Just as friends, if you want to keep things separate right now. I had an idea or two of things we could do, if you wanted to go out with me today, though I don‘t plan to tell you anything because we‘re working on your ability to be spontaneous. Fortunately, you trust me, foolish girl that you are, but I promise that you‘ll enjoy whatever we do. I hope.“

“I can be spontaneous,” she protests. “I’m just not reckless or stupid. There’s a difference.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“No, I’m not. I was just defending myself against unsubstantiated claims regarding my lack of impulsiveness.”

“Still avoiding. Maybe I need to kiss you again.”

“How would kissing help me make a decision?”

“It probably wouldn’t, but it would be a lot more fun than just sitting here while we wait for your answer. Besides, as you like to point out, I'm twenty and male. I don't really need any specific reason for wanting a kiss.” 

She bites her lip to keep from laughing at his blunt honesty and finally says, “Since I can’t seem to focus on my work, and it’s actually not necessary that I start the file today, I suppose I can spend part of the day with you.”

“Really?” He grins and leans back in his chair. “That’s great. I wasn’t sure if you’d agree or not, but I was hoping I’d wear you down with my charm and good looks. And, if that didn't work, I was prepared to whine or beg in a very pathetic manner.”

She shakes her head and finally gives in and laughs. “Oh, yes, your charm is awe inspiring.” She finishes her croissant and smiles. “I hate to break it to you, Teddy, but it’s actually the food that convinced me. Bribery does work occasionally, especially when I’m starving and don’t feel like making anything.”

“I’ll remember that,” he says. “Buy you food, and you’re easily persuaded. Got it. And, see, I’m on my best behavior. I haven’t tried to swat your arse for calling me Teddy. Of course, if you want me to be a strict rule keeper, I can certainly do my best not to disappoint.”

“I believe that we agreed last night there would be no swatting at all,” she reminds him. “So there’s no rule to follow this time. Now, do I need to change for wherever we’re going?”

“Nope. You’re perfect just as you are,” he murmurs, smiling slightly as he stares at her. “And your clothes are fine, too. It’s Muggle plans, since I figure you’d rather avoid wizarding considering your, uh, issues and stuff. Besides, Muggles have more interesting things to do on Saturdays.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly. She feels slightly guilty for giving an impression that she’d not want to be seen with him, because that's not really the case despite her reservations about their relationship, as it were. 

It's mostly that the wizarding world, despite being spread out, is rather small, especially when one is a hero of the war. Twenty years later, and people still remember and know her, though, fortunately she’s not as recognizable as poor Harry. However, it is one reason why she wanted to live near a Muggle town and why she doesn’t frequent Diagon Alley as often as she might if people didn’t stare or whisper or approach her for handshakes and the like whenever she goes there during more crowded days.

Teddy shrugs and stands up. “No need. I’d rather have you all to myself, anyway. Let me toss all this in the bin, then we can go, if you’re ready. I figured we‘d Apparate, since that‘s easier, as well as a good excuse to touch you,” he says with a mischievous grin.

She watches him take the bag and their paper cups to the kitchen, admiring the way his worn denims cling to the curve of his bum. She’s never really found bums attractive in the past, preferring hands, hipbones, and eyes when it comes to body parts that arouse her, but she likes looking at his arse in a way that should make her feel like a dirty old woman. Instead, she just smiles slightly and gets to her feet, wondering what he has planned for their day. 

Despite her misgivings and worries, she’s excited about going out with him, even if they plan to keep it just friendly. “I’ll be right back,” she tells him before she goes upstairs to use the loo. She runs her brush through her hair and changes her shirt, since she doesn’t think wearing a Holyhead Harpies shirt in the Muggle world is the best idea. So, she puts on a simple blue T-shirt and goes back to join him. When she gets downstairs, he’s waiting for her and looks up with a smile that makes her belly flop in a way that is slowly becoming familiar once again.

“You look gorgeous.”

“You need glasses.”

“I already have a pair for reading. Besides, I don’t need them to know you’re breathtaking.”

“I agreed to spend the day with you, so there’s no need for flattery.”

“Ah, but see, there shouldn’t have to be a need for sincere praise. And despite those advanced years of yours that you keep harping on lately, you really need learn how to accept a compliment. Just say ‘thank you, Ted.’ See, it’s so easy that even you can manage.”

“You’re a brat, Ted.”

“Eh, close enough. Fortunately for you, I know you’re clever enough to learn it eventually.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs as she gets her purse and keys. He smiles and holds out his hand, bouncing back on his heels as he completely fails to be subtle about his excitement. She takes his hand and moves closer to him, giving in to the impulse to lean up and brush a quick kiss against his full lips. When she pulls back, she smiles. “I’m ready for this spontaneity you seem to find so enjoyable. Let‘s go.”


	6. Acquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy spend the day together

“Demanding, aren’t you?”

“I can be, I suppose.”

“I think I like it. Also like you kissing me. Want to do it again?”

“Not at this particular moment.”

“We can wait a minute or two before we leave, just in case you feel the urge to do it again.”

“The only urge I’ll feel if we keep standing here is the one that makes me go back to work and send you on your way.”

“Threatening, too. You know, I never realized just how aggressive you are, what with bossing me around and kissing me without warning. I like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. Especially when you’re the woman and I’m the ‘it’.”

“You do realize that probably sounded much better in your head than it did when you verbalized it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

Teddy grins and just looks at her in that intense ‘sole focus of his attention’ way that makes her all flustered and blushy, which is incredibly annoying when she knows women who are thirty-eight should _not_ be blushing as easily as she does. She can feel his hand on her back and a gentle tug on her hair as he obviously wraps the ends around his fingers. His gaze drops to her lips, and she feels the air around them seem to thicken as she unconsciously tilts her head back slightly. He leans down and barely brushes his lips against her cheek and then her nose and finally her lips. It’s just a whisper of a kiss, one that makes her skin warm even as she has to resist the urge to whine for more.

“Hold on tight, Hermione,” he murmurs against her lips as he pulls her close to him. She reaches up to grip his shoulders and doesn’t look away from his face even when she feels them Apparate. When they reach their destination, she keeps looking at him for a minute or two before she blinks and steps back, reaching up to nervously run her fingers through her hair as she looks around.

“I’m beginning to notice that you have a fondness for alleys. At least this one doesn’t smell like---”

“Don’t even say it. There are certain words that just don’t belong in pleasant conversation between friends, and _that_ word is one of them.”

“Really? I wasn’t aware of any such list of unacceptable terms for use when conversing casually. I would assume that it’s not a rule or else I’d know about it. What other terms are on this list?”

“If I told you, I’d be saying them,” he points out with a mischievous smile. “This is a good alley and doesn’t smell at all like words we can’t say.”

“I already said that, if you’ll recall. By the way, where are we? Unlike you, I don’t frequent alleys, so I don’t recognize this place.”

“I live in Muggle London. I’ve learned most the alleys within walking distance from my flat and work. It’s not like I come and loiter here, you know?”

“And you’ve failed to answer the question, which makes me rather suspicious. You mentioned it needing to be a surprise for some ridiculous reason that probably only makes sense to you, but we’re obviously here now, so there’s no need to be elusive with details.”

“There’s nothing ridiculous about surprises, Hermione,” he tells her in a shocked tone. “They can be fun. You know fun, don’t you? It’s that word you rarely allow yourself to partake in these days.”

She frowns at him and narrows her eyes. “Regardless of what feelings you believe yourself to have for me, Ted, they don’t give you the right to make presumptions about my life or insult me. Understood?”

“I didn’t mean---fuck. I’m sorry,” he says, shifting awkwardly as his hair fades into a pale blue. “I wasn’t insulting you. I was just---”

“Language. Just teasing?” She shakes her head. “There’s a time for teasing, and there’s some things that are better left out of bounds. I remember when I was your age and hadn’t yet learned all those lines, but I’ll certainly be happy to point them out to you should become in danger of crossing one. Deal?”

“Deal,” he agrees, smiling hesitantly. “We good?”

“As long as you don’t behave as if I’m some tired old spinster who never does anything with her life except work, we’re fine. I happen to have fun with my children and my friends, Teddy. I might not be young and reckless anymore, but that doesn’t automatically mean I’m not able to enjoy life.”

“You’re still young, Hermione. We live to be like, what, two or three times the age of non-magical people? That means you’re just a baby. As for reckless, well, that gets old pretty fast, so no complaints about a lack of recklessness from me. And, yes, I know. We’re still standing in an alley, which goes to support your claim that I’ve got some sort of odd fetish.”

“I’ve not been a baby for years, though I do admit to having a Muggle view of age despite all my years in the magical world.“ She smiles and arches her brow. “I never said you had a fetish, Lupin. Is there something I should know about you and alleys?”

“Now who’s a brat?” he mutters, grinning as he leans his head down and kisses her quickly. “To answer your earlier question, we’re not that far from my flat. More importantly, though, we’re near our destination for the morning. Shall we?”

“’Our destination’ doesn’t tell me specifically where we’re going,” she points out as she falls in step beside him. He moves his hand around hers briefly, stroking her palm with his fingers before he lets go when they reach the street.

“That’s because I’m being vague.”

“Oh, honestly. You’re taking this surprise thing a bit far, aren’t you?”

“Maybe, but it’s your fault. You get all flushed and pretty when you’re cross, you know?”

“I also get rather accurate with my wand and several of the hexes that I can use without even thinking.”

“Point.” He laughs and shakes his head, his hair shortening just a little and becoming its normal brown as he heads to the side. “We’re nearly there anyway. I got the idea during my jog this morning, and I think I remember you mentioning something when I was younger about liking it but not being able to go for awhile.”

“Younger? You mean last week?” she asks with a slight smirk, pleased when she earns a scowl and a roll of the eyes that’s rather adorable.

“Stop it,” he warns grumpily. “I agree not to snog you in the middle of the street if you agree to not mention my age, for just today, at least.”

“You’re negotiating something that isn’t a definite, Lupin. In this case, the audacious claim that you’d even be able to snog me in the street compared to the honesty of stating your age in terms of youth.”

“Oh, it’s not audacious at all. If I wanted, I’m pretty sure I could get a kiss. However, I’m quite happy with my bollocks being in perfect working order, so it’s not something I’d likely ever attempt without permission. Still, it’s somewhat balanced, so just agree before I start to sulk.”

“Pretty sure, are you?” She snorts and purses her lips. “Just for that, I’ll agree to your proposal, though I’ll amend it to stipulate no kisses in exchange for no teasing about your age. If, perchance, I decide at some point to kiss you, it will be acceptable, but you’re not allowed to even mention the word for the rest of the day if I’m to pretend I don’t know that you’re eighteen years younger than I.”

“Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters. “No wonder you’re so successful in your career. I’m really glad you aren’t my mum, besides the obvious reasons, and I have to remember to give Hugo and Rosie extra sweets next time I see them because you’re wicked tough.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she says smugly before she glances ahead of them. She smiles when she recognizes the area. “Oh! The market.”

“Yeah. It’s Saturday, so it’ll be crowded as fuck, but I thought it might be fun,” he tells her, reaching out to tug on her hair before leading her down Portobello Road.

“Language. God, it’s been ages since I’ve been here. I loathe shopping, unless it's for books, but I’ve always had a weakness for markets like this.” She smiles at him. “Good choice.”

“Perhaps good enough to earn me a word-I-can’t-say by the end of the day?”

“Incorrigible.” She laughs and can’t even frown at him because she’s excited about spending the morning walking through the market. “Maybe I can find something nice for the children while we’re here.”

The market is crowded, full of locals and tourists alike. She’s not overly fond of crowds, on the whole, but she likes looking at the odd trinkets and browsing the selections that are more appealing. Teddy walks along beside her, inspecting everything whenever she stops. When she reaches the stall of a book-seller, he gives a resigned sigh and grins at her.

“I suppose I should get ready to stand for awhile, huh?” he teases as he reaches for a book. “Luckily, I have a rather nice collection of books myself and like to look, so you can take your time.”

“I intended to,” she says, leaning closer to him so she can look around his arm to see what book he chose. “Alice in Wonderland? That’s an interesting choice.”

“I like the bunny!” He smiles and bumps her hip with his. “Seriously, it’s a good book.”

“Yes, I’ve read it. Though it was many years ago, when I was a child.” She reaches for a book of modern crime stories and flips through it, making a face when she notices that nearly every other word is foul or abusive. “Why do people assume that gratuitous violence and foul language are edgy and cool? It’s rarely done well and just bores me after awhile. Give me Hammett or Christie any day.”

“A mystery buff?” He grins as he puts his book back and browses the shelf. “I like a good mystery, too.”

“Whenever I read fiction, it tends to be a mystery novel. I’m usually reading non-fiction, though. I have a fondness for history, for both my, uh, backgrounds, and other educational type texts.”

“I like history, too, as you know.” He walks behind her, and she feels his hand brush against the small of her back before he wanders over to the other wall. 

She bites her lip and takes a moment to focus before she begins to look at the used mystery books. She’s trying to get Rose interested in Agatha Christie, which is going pretty well so far, so she chooses a copy of ‘Murder on the Orient Express’ to owl with her weekly letter. Once done, she walks over to where Teddy is standing. He’s flipping through a paperback, seemingly engrossed, and it takes her touching his shoulder for him to stir. He turns and hastily puts the book back on the shelf, his cheeks flushed as he flexes his fingers.

“Everything okay?” she asks, moving slightly to try to see what book he was reading.

He shifts so he’s in front of the shelf, making it seem very casual had she not been trying to look. “Yes. You find something?”

“I’m buying a book for Rose. Are you finished?” If he thinks she’ll just forget about that book, he obviously doesn’t know her very well.

“Yeah, I’m good. I didn’t see anything I have to buy, so we can pay and move to the next stall.”

He stands there waiting for her to walk past, and she takes a few steps towards the man accepting money. As soon as Teddy moves behind her, she takes a step back and pivots quickly, reaching out for the book he was reading. When she sees a scantily clad woman on the cover being held by an even less dressed male with a broad chest, she blinks.

“Can we please just forget you caught me reading that?” he asks quietly. It’s obvious that he’s embarrassed when she looks at him, though she doesn’t really understand why.

“’The Pirate’s Wench’,” she reads before biting her lip as she thinks. A flip through the book almost makes her laugh out loud when she sees words like ‘turgid shaft’ and ‘throbbing bosoms’. “This looks, uh, interesting.”

He takes the book from her and shoves it on the shelf before he puts his hands in his pockets and glares. “I like romance novels. There. Now you can laugh at me and question my masculinity.”

“You do?” It’s not what she expects him to admit, so it takes her a moment to figure out what to say. She speaks softly, to avoid being overheard, and says, “I don’t think there are many things you could do that would make anyone doubt your masculinity, Teddy." She sees him smile rather smugly before she continues. "I just assumed---”

“That I was sneaking a look at a sex book?” He sighs and shifts. “I’ve been a fan since I was younger and stole Gram’s books, okay? I don’t read them for the appalling descriptions of throbbing or heaving bits. I just like the stories. However, it‘s embarrassing to be caught reading one by the woman I fancy, so I‘d appreciate you just letting it go. Please?”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about,” she points out quietly, feeling a tightening in her tummy when he casually says ‘the woman I fancy’ as if it’s such a known fact that it can be discussed like the weather. At his pointed look, she smiles sheepishly. “Fine. I admit that I’m surprised, but you promised to surprise me, didn’t you? It’s not a bad surprise. I‘ve just never read any or been a fan myself.”

“That’s rather narrow-minded of you.” He smiles when she frowns at him. “You say you aren’t a fan, yet you admit to never having read one. Granted, that particular one is pretty dreadful, but some are a fantastic blend of history, action, and romance. Besides, I like that the dashing young hero always gets the girl.”

She arches her brow and has to smile. “Guilty as charged. I’ve made a generalization based on a few conceptions that might not be accurate. However, I’d like to mention that perhaps it’s actually the buxom heroine who gets the bloke instead of some antiquated idea of anti-feminism.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees. “I know I’d be willing to sacrifice myself to being cast as ‘the bloke’ if it meant a certain gorgeous, opinionated heroine got to be all feministic or whatever.”

“I don’t think wench would look good on you,” she decides after a moment, rolling her eyes when he winks at her. She shakes her head and impulsively buys the silly book, if only for research into what would be appealing about such rubbish. After she pays, she leaves the stall and waits for him to catch up.

“You bought it.”

“I did.”

“It’s not a good example of the genre.”

“I’ll keep that in mind whenever I read it.”

“I could have lent you one of mine.”

“Yes, you could have, but it wouldn’t have been the one we found today.”

He smiles at that and nods. “Okay. But I’m going to lend you one good one, just for comparison.”

“Deal.”

“Right now, I really, really want to do that word-I-can’t-say,” he murmurs as he looks at her. “I won’t, because we made a bargain and I’m a man of honor, but I just wanted to let you know that I was thinking about how your lips feel against mine and that breathy little moan you make when I press close to you and nibble your lips. It, uh, arouses me, and makes me wonder what other types of sounds you make should I do something more than just that-word-I-can’t-say you.”

“You don’t play fair, Lupin,” she says, wondering how he can possibly remember not to say kiss when her heart is racing and her skin feels itchy with tension and heat just from the way he’s looking and talking about her.

“Never claimed I do, though I think you’re not really able to say that because you don’t play fair, either. That makes us equal, I guess.”

Someone bumps into her, breaking the spell as she stumbles towards him. He reaches for her, his hand on her elbow as he glares at the man who pushed her. She inhales his scent and straightens up, fussing with her shirt to keep her hands busy as she collects herself. “Equal is good,” she finally says before she starts to walk again.

“If you want, I can hex him with boils,” Teddy says hopefully, still glaring after the man.

“Yes, because that’s a mature reaction to being jostled while standing still in a large crowd of people.”

“Right. No hexing.”

“Thank you for offering, though,” she tells him, watching him smile as they continue through the market.

They spend several hours browsing Portobello Road market and the shops, with a stop for lunch during the day. She buys Hugo a framed painting of a river with autumn leaves falling from trees, because he’s on a kick regarding nature and redecorating his room, again, for his latest interest, and gets Rose a new charm for the bracelet Harry and Ginny gave her for her birthday this year. She also gets Ron an obnoxious hat with jingling bells that she knows he’ll love, and she sneakily buys Teddy a rather gimmicky coffee mug with the word London written on it that’s obviously meant for tourists but she thinks he might like to remember the day.

After they finish shopping, it’s late afternoon, and her feet hurt. Teddy earns major points for suggesting a stop at a Muggle coffee house, where she indulges in a sweet coffee and shares a large biscuit with him. During their time at the market, she hadn’t really noticed anyone look at them oddly. However, in the shop, she notices two women staring and whispering. She shifts in her chair, suddenly self-conscious as she sips her drink and makes sure her hand isn’t close to Teddy’s since he has a habit of touching her whenever he gets an opportunity.

He frowns, obviously aware enough to realize something happened but, surprisingly, he doesn’t ask. Instead, they finish their coffee and the biscuit before he suggests they go for a walk by the Thames. She agrees, mostly to get away from the gossipy strangers, and is glad after because it’s easy to relax once she’s alone with Teddy again. They talk as they walk and enjoy the view, and she’s surprised when she realizes how late it’s become. There are still chores to do at home, so she reluctantly mentions needing to get back, surprised by how disappointed she is for the day to end.

Instead of just saying goodbye and allowing her to Appare home, he insists on escorting her to her front door. It’s actually her sitting room, but it’s a sweet gesture so she doesn’t point that out. Once they arrive, she puts her bags down by the sofa and smiles up at him. “Thank for you today, Teddy,” she says. “I had fun.”

“So did I. Thank you for coming with me. I know it was spur of the moment, but I couldn’t not see you,” he admits.

“It’s fine. I honestly didn’t have anything planned today, so I was pleased to get out with a good friend. And I’m busy tomorrow, which means this will be the highlight of my weekend, no doubt.”

“Yeah, I’m having lunch with Gram tomorrow and have to get some stuff done around my flat. You doing anything fun?”

“Not particularly. Mostly grocery shopping, cleaning the house, laundry, writing Rose, and meeting Harry for our usual Sunday brunch, though minus Ron this week since he’s off fishing.”

“I’d say to tell my godpapa I said hello, but that might be awkward.”

“Probably, though I could always be vague about when you said it, since we do work together.”

He smiles and nods, his hair changing to the dark blue that she suspects is deliberate since it’s her favorite shade. “Then you can tell him I said hi and that I’m suffering from neglect because I haven’t seen him in ages. Question his abilities as a Godfather and add a bit of woe, if you want. I like making him feeling guilty.”

“You’re awful!”

“Nah, Harry knows I only nag him because I love him. Someone wise once told me that, you know?”

“Wise, huh?” She laughs and watches him as she runs her hand through her hair, shifting slightly as she feels tension sparking between them.

“So, this is another time when I would love to step forward and that-word-I-can’t-say you,” he points out in a rather husky voice as he looks at her lips.

She bites her lip and hesitantly takes a step closer to him, not listening to the voice suggesting that she’s _completely insane_ for not only encouraging this attraction but also letting things develop despite how illogical and complicated it all is. Complications don’t really seem as important when compared to kissing Teddy, after all. It’s after the kissing when she’s alone with her thoughts that she has to listen to that voice.

“Please?” he asks quietly, curling his fingers into his palms as he sways but doesn’t move.

“Yes,” she whispers, not even finishing the word before his arms are around her and his lips are on hers. She moves into him and reaches up to grip his hair as she parts her lips. She takes control of the kiss, curling her tongue around his and pressing closer as he caresses her back and squeezes her bum gently. 

One kiss leads to several before she finally pulls back and tries to catch her breath. His hand is on her bare back, her shirt pushed up slightly as he traces circles on her skin, and she closes her eyes when she feels his fingers in her hair. He kisses her jaw and cheek before trailing his lips down her neck. She moans softly when she feels his teeth scrape against her skin, tightening her grip on his hair as he continued to kiss and nibble her neck until he reaches the collar of her shirt.

“God,” he breathes as he rolls his hips forward and presses against her.

“We should, uh, stop,” she stammers, opening her eyes as she pulls back. Her nipples are tight, and she’s tempted to say to hell with common sense, but she knows they can’t continue. He’s already half-hard, and her knickers are slightly damp, which means this is straying into Dangerous Territory.

“Right,” he murmurs. “Don’t want to stop, but, yeah, probably for the best.”

She sighs and nods. “Yes, it’s for the best. Thank for you a lovely day, Teddy.”

“My pleasure,” he says sincerely, reluctantly letting her go and stepping back. “We’re still good, right? I mean, I can, uh, see you again? Not in a professional capacity.”

“We’re still good,” she assures him. She smiles. “Enjoy your lunch with your grandmother tomorrow. I’ll see you at work Monday, in a professional capacity. We’ll discuss outside-work some other time, okay?”

“Okay.” He grins, seemingly relieved as if he expected her to suddenly change her mind. While that is the wisest thing to do, she seems unable to be smart and logical when it comes to this situation, much to her annoyance. His hair changes to turquoise as he pushes it out of his eyes. “Enjoy your Sunday, Hermione. I’ll see you Monday.”

She watches him walk to the fireplace and toss in Floo powder, laughing when he blows her a kiss and winks before stepping through. She sits down and shakes her head, smiling even as she realizes that things are becoming even more complicated, if that’s possible, and she has no idea what to do about it. Or if she even wants to do anything yet, which startles her so much that she just sits there for awhile thinking about life, Teddy, and a surprisingly fun Saturday.


	7. Indecision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few busy days, Hermione and Teddy spend time together

The person who invented take-away deserved to be wealthy beyond their wildest dreams.

If, in fact, they weren’t successful in life, Hermione feels that a grave injustice occurred. After a long day at the office, following two other busy days, there’s nothing quite like getting Chinese from that place near the Ministry that always throws in extra rice and going home to not do anything more than spoon out food onto plates. Considering it’s already Wednesday and this is the first night she’s been home at an hour that could possibly be considered ‘not that late’, she’s grateful for Chinese take-away and an ex-husband who cares about his children, thus giving her an empty house for a few days.

While she loves being a mother, which is actually a harder job than the one she’s paid for, she can appreciate having time to herself occasionally. More so than she did before she had children, in fact. Of course, tonight it’s not really just time to herself since Teddy came home with her for dinner. They’ve both been working hard the past few days, with nary a moment for his flirting or cheekiness, so she thought it would be nice to have a meal together. They can afford an evening, now that the worst parts of the new case have been reasonably taken care of until the interviewing phase begins, which won‘t be until next Thursday.

Teddy’s in the loo washing up before they eat, so she has a moment alone while she gets plates and organizes the food. She can’t help but smile as she remembers his look of pleased surprise when she asked him if he’d like to come over for dinner. She has to wonder if he thought she’d changed her mind because he’d looked relieved and had seemed to relax just enough for her to realize that he’d been somewhat tense the past few days.

On Monday, work had been too busy to allow for daydreams or reminiscing about the days they’d recently spent together. Tuesday and today had been just as busy, as she had meetings in and out of the office most of both days. Still, when she _was_ free and around, no one observing them would have been able to tell they were out together a few days ago. 

She’s pleased that they’ve been able to balance work and the other as-yet undefined thing. They've so far been able to continue working together and being friends without complicating that aspect of things. Teddy's the same, focused and friendly to everyone he encounters; though, he’s certainly flirty after hours when they stay late to transcribe paperwork and brainstorm the case. However, it’s all in fun and rather subtle compared to his more obvious efforts during the weekend.

“You know, it helps if you actually put the food on the plates instead of just staring out the window.”

The amused voice startles her, and she glances over her shoulder to find Teddy leaning against the counter watching her. She frowns as she realizes that she didn’t even hear him enter the kitchen, which means she was either very much lost in thought or he’s just that sneaky. Right now, she thinks it’s probably a combination of the two.

“Or we could just save the plates and eat out of cartons,” he says with a lazy grin. “Means you won’t have to worry about cleaning up after since you’ll just have to toss everything into the bin.”

“Spoken like a true bachelor.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I’ve already got the plates out, and I don’t have any interest in eating out of cardboard containers.”

“You don’t mind doing that when you have Chinese at work. What’s the difference?” He walks over to help her sort things, his blue hair falling across his eyes before he shoves it out of the way.

“I’d tell you that you need a haircut if one was actually necessary for you,” she tells him. “Why you want to go around with hair in your eyes is beyond me.”

“It’s artfully disheveled. Besides, it’s just long enough to make you want to run your fingers through it without making me look like a girl,” he says smugly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed where one of those hands of yours always seems to end up when I kiss you, Hermione. I might be young and easily distracted, but I’m also pretty bloody observant, especially when it comes to you.”

“If my hand always ends up in your hair the few times we’ve kissed, perhaps it’s to get your hair out of your eyes so I can actually see you,” she points out as she opens a carton and begins to divide the food. “I might actually like looking into the eyes of the man I’m kissing, you know?”

“True, but I’m afraid that will require experimentation so that I can analyze and compare a reasonable number of kisses to determine the cause for said hair touching behavior,” he decides, grinning as he flutters his eyelashes in a ridiculous manner. “So, to successfully prove your claim, we’ll just have to kiss a lot more. I’m not clever enough to make an educated guess, you see, and I like to be extremely thorough when it comes to proving claims.”

“Ah, but clever enough to use big words that are quite impressive and show that you have a nice vocabulary.” She rolls her eyes and smiles. “And you look like you’ve got something stuck in your eyes when you bat them that way, which I suppose isn’t the intended message. Or perhaps it is?”

“I look quite beguiling when I preen,” he defends before he sticks his tongue out at her. “It’s a good thing that I’m reasonably confident because you could make a man insecure, woman.”

“Hermione, not woman like you’re a Neanderthal with limited word usage. If you begin to grunt and beat your fists against your chest, I give fair warning that I’ll toss you out of the house onto your bum.”

“Oh, when I start to grunt with you, tossing me out of the house will be the last thing on your mind,” he says in a smug tone. She glances at him and arches a brow, pursing her lips when he winks and smiles cheekily. “As for hitting myself on the chest, I’d not do that because it’s ridiculous and I can think of many more enjoyable uses for my hands. Now, if you want me to touch your chest, I‘m certainly willing.”

“With that attitude, you’ll never find out exactly what I’d do when said grunting occurs.“ She swats his arm and mutters, “Cheeky brat. I suppose this is you making up for three days without teasing.”

“No, this is me finally alone with you again somewhere other than the office.” He finishes emptying the last carton and picks up their plates, carrying them to the table. “However, I’ve been on my best behavior at work. Not that I want to risk either of our jobs or reputations for professionalism by doing anything overtly stupid. But, still, I could argue a case for deserving some sort of reward.”

“And I could combat that argument with the reminder that work is separate from personal, which means there’s no such thing as a reward for simply following procedure and obeying regulations.”

“There’s actually not a rule about dating in the workplace. Technically, you’re not my direct supervisor, you’re just training me, so the language is ambiguous enough to mean that we’re not doing anything wrong, in the Ministry’s eyes, by pursuing a relationship outside the work place.” He looks at her and grins as his hair changes to a dark violet. “I did research during my lunch break on Monday, just to make sure.”

“Did you?” She reaches up into the cabinet to get down two glasses before she admits, “I did, too. I have no intention of allowing anything to affect my job, of course, but I wanted to ensure that I wasn’t doing anything illegal or that could put my job at risk.”

“Yeah, see, I didn’t want you to have to worry about your job along with everything else you’re worried about,” he tells her as he sits down. “It’s frustrating because so much of this is out of my control, so I wanted to at least do _something_ productive.”

“Pineapple juice or fruit punch? I’m afraid that’s all I have besides water.” She looks at him and frowns slightly. “I imagine it’s just as frustrating to think about the complications and weigh the best course for both of us as it is to jump in without worrying that much at all.”

“Fruit punch is fine,” he says. “And I worry, Hermione. Maybe even more than you do, even if it’s about different things. Well, maybe not because you’re a natural worrier and I’m normally not someone who is concerned about every possible outcome of every movement. Now, though, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells sometimes, like one wrong move will end any chance I have, and I hate having no idea what you’re thinking a majority of the time.”

She pours them each a glass of fruit punch before she joins him at the table. When she sits down, she looks at him steadily. “I think that this situation isn’t necessarily easy on either of us,” she says softly. “Neither of us are people who thrive in such circumstances, I’d daresay, and that just makes it worse. I’m trying, Teddy, and I wouldn’t be taking a chance if I honestly didn’t like you enough to bother dealing with all the thoughts and worries I’m having right now.”

“It’s worse for you,” he murmurs. “And I try to remember that, I really do, but, like you said, it isn’t always easy. Fortunately, we can both make mistakes and fuck up without being able to get too mad because that’s just part of it all, I guess.”

“Language,” she scolds before she nods. “You’re right, even if I hate the idea of actually making mistakes, especially at this point in my life. I thought all of this was behind me.”

“What? Dating?” He gapes at her. “Bloody hell, Hermione. You’re only thirty-eight, and you look years younger. You’ve got a brilliant career and great kids. Any bloke would be thrilled to have you, not that I’m encouraging you to actually test that claim. This is one time you can just trust me and let me be the lucky man who managed to get through to you.”

“Trust me when I say that there has never been a line at the door for such things. Besides, as you said, I have children, which is certainly not considered a positive for most men, and I have a great career that often requires working at home so that I’m not in the office when the children need me. I’ve managed to balance work and family really well for years, but a lot of men wouldn’t be satisfied with what little time I have left. If anything, you’re somewhat of a rarity, which is probably another reason I’m hesitant about all this.”

“As if you need another reason,” he mutters. He smiles then and reaches over the corner of the table to caress her cheek. “Let’s eat and talk about less serious things for awhile, okay? I’ve missed you and really want to be selfish and just enjoy your company until you kick my arse out later.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” she murmurs, moving her head slightly so she can kiss his palm. She glances at the food and then smiles up at him. “When you surprised me in the kitchen earlier, I was actually thinking about the person who invented take-away and hoping that they lived a long and successful life.”

He looks at her a moment and then laughs. “I love how your brain works. It’s so fascinating, and you make me think about things I’ve never even considered before. I like to think that I’m pretty bloody bright on my own, but I always feel smarter whenever we talk, even if it’s about odd things like take-away.”

“I’m not exactly sure that I’d call my brain fascinating, as it can be peculiar sometimes, but I have to admit that I like the notion of challenging you to think more. It’s quite a lovely compliment, far better than flowery talk about the color of my eyes or such nonsense.”

“See, you have your reasons why we’re a bad idea and all these issues that mean we shouldn’t even try, but _I_ have a list of reasons why you’re amazing and could easily be my ideal woman. The fact that you’d rather be appreciated for your intelligence than your pretty brown eyes is just one of many reasons.”

She shifts in her chair and tries to think of an appropriate comeback, but, in the end, she smiles and just hopes she’s not blushing. They begin to eat, and she quickly remembers how hungry she is once she tastes the Chinese food. It’s perfect for tonight, suiting their casual conversation about non-serious things and allowing them to steal bits off each other’s plates. By the time they finish, she’s surprised that so much time has passed. Once again, they've started talking and enjoying the comfortable silence until time slips away from them.

“That was really good,” she says as she leans back in her chair. Her legs brush against his, and she glances at him when he shifts. He’s staring at her intently, which flusters her.

“Yes, it was,” he agrees. He reaches over and traces the back of her hand with his fingers. “I really don’t want to go home yet. It’s not that late.”

“I suppose we could have coffee. I might even have biscuits somewhere.”

“I’ll make the coffee if you want to search for the biscuits.”

“Okay.”

They don’t move from the table. Instead, she turns her hand and his fingers brush against her palm. His hair is green when he leans forward, and she grips his wrist as she sways towards him, meeting him halfway. It’s their first kiss since Saturday, so it doesn’t really matter that the angle is awkward or that they taste like fruit punch. The only important thing at that precise moment is that his lips are on hers and that she missed kissing him nearly as much as she missed their long conversations about everything and anything.

When she pulls back, he smiles and rubs his thumb along her jaw. “I don’t think we need coffee.”

“Maybe not,” she murmurs. “However, I do think we need to move somewhere more comfortable because this is rather awkward for kissing.”

He stands up so fast that he knocks the chair back. Before it can fall, he catches it and flashes a sheepish smile as he sets it back up. “Didn’t want to give you time to change your mind.”

“I probably should, but, right now, I really just want another kiss.”

“Thank God,” he says, holding out his hand to her as he lowers his head. She stands up, bumping his nose and chin before she tilts her head and their lips meet again. He moves his hands down her back, and she holds his shoulders as they stumble and kiss their way to the sofa. When they sit down, she laughs and reaches for him, leaning back against the pillow as she moves her fingers into his hair.

She can’t remember the last time she’s really been snogged. Years, definitely, because she and Ron had drifted apart for awhile before they finally separated. It’s exciting to feel this way again, especially considering the fact she doubted she would again. Teddy has great lips, and he’s an amazing kisser. Somehow, he manages to be gentle and passionate all at the same time, which she finds incredibly arousing.

It’s hard to believe that it’s not even been a week since he asked her to dinner. Of course, she’s fantasized about him for months, so maybe that’s why this feels so bloody good. He’s lying against her as they kiss, his body warm and heavy against hers, and she can’t stop touching him. She wants him. While she’s aware of this, has known even before she was aware that he fancied her, it still surprises her just how desperately she desires him. It’s frightening, even as she does her best to ignore logic and all the complications for a few wonderful moments.

“Hermione,” he moans against her lips as he shifts on the sofa. She feels him press more directly against her, rolling his hips slightly. She makes a low whining noise when she feels his hardness push against her thigh, unable to believe that he’s that aroused just from kissing. Before she can start worrying about things going too fast, he kisses her neck and distracts her. She moves her hands down his back and tugs on his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers until she touches bare skin.

“Yes,” she hisses when he kisses a certain spot beneath her ear that makes her toes curl. She arches up against him and slides her hand up beneath his shirt, stroking his back as she moves her fingers into his hair and tugs. He raises his head, blinking at her as green hair falls across his forehead, and he smiles crookedly before he kisses her again.

The kiss deepens quickly, any teasing or gentleness fading as they give in to the tension that’s been crackling between them even longer than she realized. He grinds against her as his tongue curls around hers, and she unconsciously rocks up to meet him, needing more friction and more touching and more Teddy. She digs her fingernails into his back as she rubs her chest against his, her nipples tight and hard and her breasts heavy and aching. It isn’t until she feels his fingers on her ribs, beneath her shirt, that she slowly comes back to her senses.

She blinks dazedly as she realizes she’s rocking against him, and she can feel his erection press into her as his hips keep moving. “Stop,” she murmurs. “We can’t.”

“We can,” he whines, trying to kiss her again.

“No, we can’t,” she says even as she wishes she could just close her eyes and let things progress naturally. She’s scared, though, even more than she was because it was so easy to let go and things moved so fast that she can barely breathe.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pulls back and moves to his knees, looking down at her as he runs his hand through his hair. “And don’t even bother scolding me about my language. What’s wrong, Hermione?”

“It’s moving too fast,” she tells him, trying not to stare at the bulge that is pressed against his trousers. “We just need to slow down.”

“Why?” He’s breathing hard and he looks confused and aroused and angry. “We’re not even naked! I just want…you want, too…and I don’t see why we can’t…”

“Because I’m scared,” she says more sharply than she intends. She sits up and moves her legs out from beneath him. “I didn’t intend to let things progress this far, Teddy. I wanted to kiss you, and I thought there might be a little touching. I didn’t expect us to start grinding and, well, it’s just too much right now.”

“Says who?” He shakes his head. “I’m trying to be patient, but you were kissing me back and you were the one who pulled my shirt up and it wasn’t just me!”

“I know it wasn’t, and that’s why we need to stop.”

“That makes _no sense_!”

“I’m not going to make a mistake just because I can’t control my lust,” she snaps at him, flinching when she watches his face and realizes how that sounds.

“A mistake.” He speaks quietly as his hair turns a dark red that she’s never seen before. “Right. Can’t have the perfect and restrained Hermione Granger-Weasley do anything as human as lose control. God forbid she ever do anything as stupid as crave contact or want someone.”

“Teddy, I didn’t mean---”

“It’s fine, Hermione,” he interrupts, his tone indicating that it was anything but okay. “I might be young but I’m not an idiot. I thought you felt it, too, and I believed that you’d decided to just go for it and take a chance. I didn’t realize that being with me would be such a mistake.”

“Now you’re just being stubborn and immature,” she points out quietly. “I never said that being with you is a mistake. You have no right to be insulting or act as if you’re the only one affected by this. We both have to be ready, and, while I do want you, I panicked and got scared.”

"You're not the only one who's scared, you know?" he says, his tone still curt but wavering slightly. "It seems like you forget sometimes that it isn't just you with concerns and worries."

"I know you are, Teddy, even if it's not obvious. You do well hiding your nervousness, for the most part," she says softly, rather pleased that she's able to approach this patiently even as her own emotions are confusing her. "Anyone in this sort of situation is, under normal circumstances. With all the issues we bring with us, it's understandable that we're both anxious and frightened."

He sighs and his hair begins to fade until it’s a burnt orange as he stands up and begins to pace. “I hate that you got scared,” he finally says when he stops pacing and looks at her. “I know I’m not very good with a lot of this emotional adult stuff, but I heard you say mistake and I thought the worst. I rarely lose my temper, but, when I do, it’s usually fast and then I’m over it.”

“I can understand that.” She knows about insecurities, after all, and she also realizes how tough it is to be vulnerable around someone with the power to hurt you. She knows now that Teddy has given her that power.

He walks back to the sofa and sits down, keeping distance between them even as he reaches for her hand and faces her. “I’m not going to say I’m sorry, Hermione, because we both fucked up, and I’m really struggling with being patient and trying to give you what you need without becoming a pathetic wanker. For once, I‘ll actually use my age by mentioning that I‘m only twenty, so most of this is new to me. I mean, I know I‘m pretty sensitive for a bloke, figure that‘s cause Gram raised me, but I am still a man and it‘s hard to think when I feel like I do whenever I‘m kissing you.”

“It seems that your language becomes much more foul whenever you’re upset. No, that isn’t me scolding. Merely an observation,” she explains before he can say anything. She smiles slightly as she moves her fingers to curl around his. “You’re right, though. Neither of us should apologize, or perhaps we both should. I honestly didn’t mean to get so carried away tonight. It’s just, well, like you said. Sometimes it’s hard to think whenever you’re kissing me.”

“I think the compliment of being told that my kisses can make _you_ unable to think almost makes up for all this unpleasant awkwardness,” he teases softly. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t intend to do anything except steal a few kisses, if you let me.”

“If I let you, it couldn’t be considered stealing.”

“Yeah, but stealing sounds more daring and sexy than accepting given kisses.”

“You actually have a point there.”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“Well, it so rarely happens that you’ll have forgive my shock and dismay.”

“Very funny. You’re so comedic that I’m considering rolling on the floor with laughter.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Lupin.”

He grins and leans forward before he suddenly stops. He sighs and raises her hand, brushing a kiss against her palm. “As much as I want to kiss you, I think it’s probably better if I don’t right now.”

“It’s probably for the best,” she agrees, reaching up to brush his hair away from his eyes. “It’s getting late.”

“I know.” He kisses her hand again before he stands up and stretches. “I enjoyed tonight, Hermione. Even the not so great parts, since the really good parts definitely made up for those.”

When he stands, she notices that he’s still half-hard, even after the mood was ruined. She has to bite her lip to keep from doing something stupid like giggling when she thinks that there seem to be at least a few benefits to being twenty. Before she’s caught looking, she stands up and kisses his cheek. “I enjoyed tonight, too. You know, Hugo will be coming home on Sunday, but I could go out Friday, if you’d like. Dinner after work?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asks, grinning as he looks down at her. Before she can say anything, he nods. “Yes. God, I’m easy, aren’t I? Didn’t even make you work for that agreement.”

“Incorrigible is what you are, amongst other things,” she mutters. She has to smile, though, relieved that things feel more normal after the awkwardness of earlier. “Good night, Teddy.”

“Ted.“ He swats her bum lightly and darts away, laughing as she glares at him. “God, you’re smashing,” he says with a grin before he tosses powder into the Floo. “Sweet dreams, Hermione. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

He blows her a kiss, just like he did the other day, and steps through the Floo. Before he’s completely through, she reaches him and swats his bum in return, just so he doesn’t get the last word, so to speak. After he’s gone, she sighs and runs her hands through her hair, her mind whirling from everything that’s happened tonight. Finally, she goes to the table and starts to clean up from dinner.


	8. Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione makes a decision

There’s something to be said for making lists.

Despite having the urge to sit and analyze everything that’s been happening between her and Teddy, Hermione resists until late Wednesday night. She’s not foolish enough to think that emotions, which are tricky and unpredictable, can be analyzed thoroughly and made to fit neatly into organized lists, which is why it seemed silly to try. However, the events on Wednesday night have left her feeling somewhat guilty and more confused.

Since Teddy first approached her in her office, she’s been thinking about herself. Her family, her job, her friends, her reputation. All of the issues that she keeps dwelling on affect her, even if some do affect Teddy peripherally. For some reason, she has failed to consider that Teddy has issues, too. Different ones, of course, and not as complex as hers, but the age factor and work and how their close friends and family will react are all important matters in his life. Just hearing him admit that he’s scared, too, brought a few things into focus for her that she hadn’t thought about until Wednesday.

It’s now Friday, and Teddy’s due over to pick her up for their dinner date within the hour. For the last two days, she’s thought about their relationship and the complications. She’s made list after list, most nonsensical in an odd shorthand with a few that are more developed, complete with diagrams and general graphs. Lists help her focus and gather her thoughts. Whether it’s work or chores or just moments that require more in-depth thought, she’s always depended on lists and schedules to help her prioritize and organize her life. While this current dilemma is definitely emotional and irregular, it’s surprising how much the simple act of sitting down with a clean piece of parchment and a fresh quill to make a list helps.

After too many hours of analysis and a dozen lists ranging from brief to lengthy, she’s no closer to having any idea what the future holds. There are a lot of factors to consider, for both of them, and no amount of focus can predict how everything will go between them or what might happen if they do progress to a point where others will learn about their whatever this is between them. Until now, it’s been private, a secret they keep not because of shame but because of uncertainty and perhaps even a little insecurity. But, if things do continue to move along, they will eventually reach a time when the secrecy will become less comforting and more frustrating.

It’s only been one week since that night in her office when she’d been scolding herself for months of fantasies about him only to find out he was having fantasies of his own. Seven days in which her life has changed irrevocably, regardless of how the future goes. If anything, her lists and analysis have confirmed her suspicion that there is no going back. She can’t think of him as simply Teddy Lupin, the boy I babysat for years. Not anymore. He’s now Teddy-Call-Me-Ted Lupin, the man she can talk to for hours on end, who makes her breathless with his kisses and causes her body to heat up with even the most casual of touches.

Wednesday night made her aware that he isn’t as secure and confident as he seems, and it also forced her to acknowledge that this isn’t just about sex for him. A part of her has wondered if it’s just a crush or desire, after all, and his easy manner and casual flirting has merely supported that idea without giving her a solid reason to believe otherwise. Seeing him lose his temper, which she’s only witnessed a very small handful of times in nineteen years, and seeing his face as he experienced a variety of emotions was what she needed to realize it isn’t just a game and isn’t merely a desire for a good shag.

None of these things change the fact that this is risky. Mutual desire and affection is wonderful, but the complications are still there. If anything, they’re worse because this isn’t a simple affair that will end after one shag. Neither of them are interested in casual, it seems, which is bloody frightening. The worst case scenarios that she’s thought about during the last couple of days scare her to death, and she’s too honest and logical to really think about best case scenarios. She can’t very well rely on an ideal expectation of everyone accepting them without a word of disapproval when she knows that she, herself, is hesitant due to their age difference and their close familial-like bond over the years. They aren't related by blood, but Teddy has been part of the Weasley-Potter family since his birth, so it's a valid concern.

One thing she’s come to accept during her hours of list making and thought, however, is that she wants him. Oh, she’s known she lusted for him since shortly after they started working together, and she knows he arouses her in a way she hasn’t been for years, with no blame placed on Ron during the last couple of years of their marriage. She’s been too scared and worried to allow herself to let go and just surrender to desire because she’s not really that sort of impetuous person by any means. There’ve been times in her past when she’s been rash, certainly, and she and Ron used to be quite mischievous when it came to sex and spontaneity, but her concerns in that area have been more problematical than even Teddy knows.

With the knowledge that there’s no going back to how things were, not that she wants to, and the acknowledgement that she wants to have sex with him as well as continue letting things between them develop however they will, she has been able to come to a decision or two that don’t have her stomach tied up in knots of tension or worried about how everything will go. 

It’s inevitable, really. The attraction between them is reciprocated and intense. One kiss makes her want another, and she wants to touch him, wants to see his face when he slides into her, wants to hear him make noises as they give each other pleasure. It was too soon Wednesday night, and she has no regrets about stopping when she did. Maybe on some level she needed to know that it mattered to him and to see that he was scared, too. Or maybe she just needed to take the time to really think and focus in a way she hadn’t until then even with the constant concerns and knowledge of the complications facing them if they actually took the risk.

Whatever she needed, she seems to have got it because she feels more certain than she has since things changed between them last Friday. It might be foolish, it might be far too soon, it might just makes things even more of a mess in some ways, but she thinks it’s the right choice. It’s not something she’s decided lightly, after all, and she’s fully aware that it’ll change things, so she’s going into it with her eyes open and not simply reacting to lust or being impulsive. Teddy means more to her than just a shag, fantasies or not, and she wants to let things happen between them without the sense of panic and fear.

Well, she knows there will still be a little panic, because it’s been years since she’s had sex, and she’s only ever been with Ron, who isn’t like Teddy in many ways, so she assumes they’ll definitely be different when it comes to the bedroom. She has no intention of comparing them, of course, any more than she hopes Teddy compares her to his previous lovers, but her insecurities are what are nagging at her now that she’s made her mind up. The complications and the future are still lurking around her, but it’s the thought of being naked with Teddy that has her nervous and tense.

She’s thirty-eight and the mother of two children. Her body certainly doesn’t hide her age or motherhood. She has stretch marks, her tummy is more flabby than flat, her breasts are full and sensitive but they’re definitely not firm or perky, her thighs aren’t hard and toned, and her bum is well-rounded. This isn’t her insecurities making her think about why she shouldn’t get naked, it’s simply the truth she sees whenever she looks in the mirror. 

Fortunately, she’s happy with her body, and thinks she’s look pretty good considering her age, her stressful job, and having two active children. She has a natural confidence now that she lacked when she was younger, and she’s got years of experience that make her feel more capable and assured. While the thought of Teddy seeing her naked and not finding her attractive is a worry, it’s a common one that many people feel the first time they become intimate with someone. Sharing yourself with another person means something, to her, at least, and she imagines everyone has their little anxieties in this situation.

So, tonight, instead of going out to dinner, she’s making dinner for them. They’ve both been in and out of the office the last two days, so it’ll be nice to have a chance to talk and catch up. Besides, she plans to seduce him, and that’s far more easily accomplished in privacy because she’s not likely to do anything so bold in public. She knows he finds her attractive, doesn’t doubt that at all after their kisses and everything else, but she likes the idea of getting some of the control back that she’s lost this last week. It’s not that Teddy has taken it, so much as the situation has left her flailing and uncertain. 

It’s nice to feel confident about things again, even if she’s never actually had to seduce anyone before, so she’s not completely sure what it entails. She and Ron had been together for months when they first had sex, and it had just happened without any particular effort on either of their parts to persuade the other. There were times during their marriage that she took the initiative and seduced him, of course. The circumstances and relationship they had weren’t the same as this at all, though.

It’s different to approach sex this way, but it’s also rather exciting and the anticipation has been building all day, mostly because she knew this morning what she planned for tonight and Teddy has no idea. She doesn’t want to force it or make it seem like it has to happen now that she’s ready in a demanding sort of way. This is about intimacy between them, so it has to be a choice they both make. She wants to have sex with him tonight and she thinks that he won’t mind being seduced at all, but, if it doesn’t happen, it’s not going to ruin anything because she’s ready for that progression whenever it does happen.

Still, it doesn’t hurt to plan even if she intends to let things happen somewhat naturally. She’s making dinner so they can eat privately and be close to the bedroom, just in case. She considers changing into something sexy, wearing a clinging dress and naughty knickers, but that feels false to her. Instead, she’s just taken off her work robes and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. Her knickers are comfortable blue cotton, her brassiere matches in material and simplicity, and she’s wearing a skirt that falls past her knees. One of her only indulgences is stockings, so she’s wearing a garter and black silk stockings that end high on her thighs.

While the food cooks, she does go upstairs to freshen up. She checks her legs to make sure they’re smooth and then washes up before she takes her hair out of its plait. She brushes it then adjusts her bra, wanting her breasts to look appealing instead of somewhat lopsided. It doesn’t take long, and she’s back downstairs finishing up dinner when she hears the Floo. 

Since there’s a chance that she has an uninvited visitor, she leaves the kitchen to go see who it is without calling out a greeting. She stops in the doorway and smiles when she sees Teddy standing by the fireplace. He’s still wearing his work clothes, though he did leave his robes at home. His gray trousers are well tailored, something she knows from staring at his bum earlier, and his pale pink shirt, a color few men would even attempt to pull off but he manages to successfully, fits him well. She notices that he’s removed his tie and has unbuttoned the top buttons, showing a glimpse of skin when he raises his hand to brush his fingers through his hair.

“Good evening, Ted.”

“I was starting to wonder if you planned to speak or just wanted to watch me for awhile,” he says, flashing her a cheeky grin. He uses a charm to clean his clothes and walks further into the room. “I could have posed for you, you know? If you like to watch.”

She snorts when he wiggles his eyebrows and manages to make his last few words sound extremely suggestive. “Perhaps I do,” she quips, deciding now is as good a time as any to try flirting. “And exactly how would you pose, Teddy?”

He blinks at her and then smiles as his brown hair begins to change color. “Any way you want me, Hermione. Don’t you know that by now? I’m yours.”

It isn’t the answer she expects, which is quite frustrating when she’s trying to flirt. Of course, her tummy flutters at the easy way he says that he’s hers, as if she’s silly for not knowing. His hair is turquoise now, which she’s beginning to associate with him being happy. The very idea of judging his moods by his color is ridiculous, she’s sure, but certain colors seem most present during certain emotions, so she can’t help but wonder if he’s not always in control of his gift.

“And that isn’t supposed to make you purse those pretty little lips and become speechless,” he informs her, shifting awkwardly for a moment.

“Not speechless, just thinking.”

“God, that’s even worse. I’d suggest that you try not to think, but it’s so much a part of who you are, that it would feel weird if you didn’t.”

“I’m glad that I have your permission to think.”

“Well, so long as it’s good things and not anything bad about me.”

“Nice addendum.”

“I’ve learned that one must be thorough around you.”

“Thoroughness is definitely an admirable trait. Does your thoroughness extend everywhere?” she asks, dropping her gaze to look him over before focusing on his face again. She smiles slightly when she sees him blink again and wonders if it’s so very surprising that she can be suggestive, too.

“Um, well, I guess.” He cringes slightly and shakes his head before he nods emphatically. “Yes, it does. Very thorough in _all_ activities. Want proof?”

“Not right now. I’m hungry, and dinner is nearly ready.”

“Not right now?“ he repeats thoughtfully before he arches a brow. “Wait, we’re not going out?”

“I asked you out to dinner, but I never specified where,” she reminds him, turning so she can go back into the kitchen to check on the food. “I haven’t cooked all week, so I thought this was as good a time as any to start getting back into the habit. Hugo will be home in a couple of days, after all. It’s nothing fancy, just Shepherd’s pie and vegetables, but I thought a home-cooked meal and relaxing here sounded better than getting out again.”

“It smells delicious.” He catches up to her as she enters the kitchen. She feels his hand brush lightly against the small of her back as he asks, “Do you need me to do anything? I can set the table or make myself useful some way.”

“Well, dinner’s about ready, so I guess you can set the table, if you want. You know where everything is located.”

“I think that staying in tonight is a great idea,” he says. She glances over to watch him getting plates and forks, wondering if he has any idea how graceful he can be at the simplest of actions. When he glances at her, she smiles instead of looking away, and drags her teeth over her bottom lip. He blinks again, which she notices is becoming common behavior tonight, and then shakes his head slightly. “Work has been stressful the last couple of days, so it’s definitely good to unwind in private.”

“Ogden is a good man, and he taught me a lot when I first joined the department, but he’s very demanding and set in his ways.”

“He’s also as old as dirt and thinks I’m an incompetent child.” Teddy’s face shifts until she’s suddenly looking at Tiberius Ogden. “You, boy, go get that file and don’t bother looking at it because it has big words you wouldn’t understand. You, boy, what’s the fifth word on page sixteen of that archaic book you’ve never even heard of?”

“Teddy!” She shakes her head. “You should be more respectful.”

“ _He_ should be more respectful,” he protests as his face changes back to normal, thankfully. “I know I can learn a lot from him, it’s one reason I was pleased that my internship is split between both your offices, but the man is convinced that I’m irresponsible and a lay about just because I’m not fifty. Well, the hair color might also have something to do with it, but, if so, that’s still discrimination based on my natural abilities instead of age.”

“No, it’s just your age because he’s color blind and wouldn’t know if you had purple hair with yellow polka dots. Besides, he was the same way to me when I started in the department, and I was several years older than you are now. It’s just his way. Once he knows you’re serious and you’ve earned his respect, he’s an excellent friend to have on your side.”

“I didn’t realize he was color blind.” Teddy smiles mischievously as he finishes setting the table. “So, purple with yellow polka dots?”

“No, you will not,” she says firmly. “He might not know, but I would, and we try to behave professionally in the work place.”

“Ah, right. During office hours, at least.” He smirks as he looks at her lips, obviously remembering last Friday and the kiss in her office since it’s what’s come to her mind. “Right. I’ll stop whining about Ogden, if only because I’d much rather talk about more enjoyable things than that old geezer. Like that case you won today. Brilliant job.”

“Thank you.” She smiles as she finishes up dinner. She summons the plates he’s just set out and begins to fill them. “It was a relief to have it finished, in all honestly. I mean, I’m thrilled we won, of course, but it’s taken months to get there. I’m always happy when those lengthy cases end well.”

“Yeah, you were working on that one when I first started,” he recalls. “Juice or water?”

“Pineapple juice, please. And, yes, it’s been about nine months since the file first crossed my desk. It wasn’t even anything overly complicated, not like sometimes, but it was just continuance after continuance and it took ages for it to finally be heard.”

“It’s done now, though, which is exciting. I managed to sneak out to watch part of it in between the ‘you, boy’ calls. You’re amazing, you know? I mean, you’re just so confident and sharp and almost scary. I’d certainly not want to argue a case against you, that’s for sure.”

“Almost scary?” She puts the plates on the table and looks at him. “Goodness, I need to work harder, I guess, since I’m going for ‘wet yourself frightening’ whenever I’m up there.”

“I say almost because I’ve felt you shudder against me while moaning. I can’t see you as full-on scary after that,” he admits. “It’s, uh, always sort of in the back of mind now.”

“Oh.” She ducks her head and rolls hers eyes at herself. ‘Oh’? That’s all she can come up with after such an admission during the night she plans to seduce him? She’s bloody useless when it comes to all this nonsense, obviously.

Teddy sets their cups on the table and sits down, his legs pressing lightly against hers. “You sound surprised,” he murmurs, looking up at her from beneath turquoise fringe. “Kissing you isn’t something easily forgotten, Hermione.”

“Not surprised.” She picks up her fork and bites her lip as she thinks. Finally, she says, “Okay, maybe a little surprised. I’m not really used to my kissing being so distracting for someone.”

“If Ron didn’t find your kisses distracting, well, I’ll keep my opinion about him to myself.”

“He did when we were younger,” she defends automatically. “And, really, I’d rather not hear slurs against my ex-husband, Ted. He’s still my best friend, even if we aren’t in love anymore. I’m certainly no saint nor was I easy to live with, so don’t let your feelings for me change your opinion about him. He’s a wonderful man and an excellent father. We were happy together for many, many years, longer than a lot of people are lucky enough to find, and it’s neither of our faults that we just drifted apart as time went on.”

“I like Ron, Hermione, but he’s a fool for letting you go,” he says simply. “In this case, maybe I am too young to really understand. I mean, I understand what you’re saying, and I can even see it, just from my point of view of you two during the years. You weren’t as happy near the end, because you didn’t smile as much when no one was looking, and you looked sad the Christmas before you separated. I didn’t really know why until after, of course, but I noticed it then.”

“You’ve always been too observant,” she murmurs. “I thought I hid it well, when I started to feel discontent. I didn’t even really know I wasn’t happy, because, on so many levels, I _was_ happy. Ron and I, when we talked about and started to understand, we considered staying together because it was good, better than being alone and trying to deal with the entire mess that a divorce would entail. In the end, we realized it wasn’t fair to either of us, though, so we made the difficult decision. But I was never regretful for my life with him, the years we had together, or our children, and now we’re close friends who share a lot of our lives, so it’s been an odd circle, I suppose, back to where we started with the experience and knowledge that we’ve had our moment.”

“I think it’s great that you’re both still friends,” he admits in between bites of his food. “I knew kids at Hogwarts who had divorced parents, and they had it much worse than Hugo and Rose ever will because you two are able to get along.”

“Our children mean the world to us and they’re our number one priority regardless of anything else in our lives,” she says simply. They lapse into comfortable silence as they focus on their food, which is pretty good considering she hurriedly made it after work. As they eat, she remembers her plans for tonight. It’s not that she’s forgotten, but it’s so easy to talk to Teddy that she’s not been thinking that much about seduction. Since he hasn’t even tried to kiss her, though, it’s obvious that she needs to take the initiative this time.

Midway through the meal, she shifts in her chair and moves her leg against his. It’s innocent, in theory, and not alarming as she’s just moved, so he doesn’t do more than tighten his grip on his fork and move his legs to give her more room. He’s too bloody considerate, which isn’t normally something she’d find worthy of grumbling by any means. Now, though, it’s just making it more difficult to seduce him without being ridiculously obvious.

“How is the pie?” she asks before she casually moves her foot along the back of his leg.

He jerks suddenly, knocking his knee against the top of the table, which makes him curse under his breath. “Fuck,” he mutters, blinking across the table at her as his cheeks flush with color. “I know, language. Uh, the pie? It’s delicious.”

“Oh, God. Teddy, are you okay?” She's about to get up to check his knee and summon the first aid kit before she remembers that he's not her child. No, he's not a child at all anymore; he's an adult, a man that she wants to do very wicked things with, which makes her mothering instinct just plain wrong. 

So, she doesn't move from her chair, and she fights down that impulse, rather proud of herself in the end. Of course, she's also somewhat concerned that his reaction to her fondling the back of his leg with her foot is to curse and pull away. What’s happened to the brazen young man who has been trying to get into her knickers for days? She frowns slightly and moves her foot again, this time along his other leg until she reaches the back of his knee.

“I’m fine,” he squeaks as he pushes his chair back and stands up. “Getting seconds, in fact.”

She watches him hurry to the kitchen before she can say anything and sighs. Maybe he doesn’t like having his legs touched? She knows that everybody has their own personal likes and dislikes when it comes to arousal and sexual interests, but she’s surprised because Teddy seems so sensual. He even eats sensually, which is rather bothersome when one’s trying to focus on something besides his lips and tongues and the odd little moans he occasionally makes after a particularly pleasing bite.

When he comes back into the dining room, his plate is full, his hair is a dark green, and his shirt isn’t tucked in anymore, which means he’s obviously getting more comfortable even if he seems tense. He stares at her a moment before he sits down and pulls his chair closer to the table, shifting in a way so that his legs aren’t touching hers. Well, bloody hell.

“Do you cook much?” he asks in that husky tone that makes her think about sex. He clears his throat and takes a drink of his juice. “I mean, I know you work a full day and then come home to take care of Hugo, so I was curious if you do a lot of cooking, because this is really good.”

“I cook quite a bit,” she says thoughtfully. “Ron and I used to share the cooking, because it’s certainly not just my responsibly because I happen to be a woman, but now that he’s gone, I do indulge in take-away occasionally. I’m also teaching the children how to cook, of course. Hugo is quite fond of making biscuits, with supervision, and Rose is really good at making pasta dishes. When they’re both older, they’ll be able to help more with cooking and other chores.”

“I like to cook, though I can’t do anything too fancy,” he tells her. “Gram made sure I could cook and clean and take care of myself. No coddling from her.”

“Fancy only happens at special occasions, usually. I can follow a recipe, of course, but there are a few things, like Shepherd’s pie, that I try to keep ingredients on hand for after a long day at the office when I just want to make something good and easy.” As she talks, she moves her legs and presses her foot against his upper thigh.

“Good and easy. Right.” He coughs and shifts again, turning in his chair until he’s practically hanging off one side. If he falls off, she’s not at all sure that she won’t laugh, though it would possibly be hysterical laughter since she’s starting to wonder what she’s doing wrong. When she frowns and presses her foot against his leg again, he groans. “You’re driving me absolutely insane.”

“I am?” She tilts her head slightly and flexes her toes when he reaches down to grip her foot.

“You have to know you are,” he accuses in what could be called a whiny tone. “With the legs and the foot and, God, I’m trying to be good because you want time and I fucked up on Wednesday, but you don’t make it easy.”

“Language. Why are you behaving so strangely, Teddy?” she asks curiously. “You’re not pulling away because you have some sort of intolerance for having your legs touched?”

“What?” His eyes widen and he snorts. “Bloody hell, you can’t be that daft. I’ve been squirming in my chair, had to get up so I could pull my shirt free in an effort to conceal my erection, and you’re asking if I have an intolerance of some kind?”

“I’m not daft,” she says sharply. “It’s not my fault that you’re fidgety and not reacting at all like you’re supposed to.”

“How am I supposed to react?” he demands, staring across the table at her. “Wait! What do you mean, supposed to? It wasn’t just accidental?”

“I highly doubt that it would be an accident for my foot to stroke your thigh.” Her tone is dry, which is a simple defense mechanism as she frowns at him. She remembers something he just said and focuses on his face. “You had an erection?”

“God, don’t say that word,” he mutters, tightening his grip on her foot. She can feel his finger brush against the bottom of her foot, rubbing the soft silk against her skin, and she bites her lip as heat spreads over her. “Yes, I had one, okay? Happy now? I’m so aroused by you that I get hard watching you lick your fork and feeling your legs against mine. It’s embarrassing because I wasn’t this pathetic even when I was fifteen.” He hesitates a moment as if remembering something and sighs. “Okay, maybe I was, but I’m twenty now and too old for instant-erections every time you turn me on.”

It takes her a moment to absorb everything he’s said. When she does, she has to smile. “I don’t think men are ever too old for that gift, so I’d enjoy it while you can because, in a few years, you’ll be whining about the good old days,” she tells him. “And I actually am happy, for the record. I was starting to think that I was obviously doing something wrong, so I’m much more confident now that I know you were just being foolish by trying to avoid your reaction.”

“Foolish?” He moves his thumb along the curve of her arch and glares at her. “Considering everything that happened Wednesday night when I didn’t avoid my reaction, I don’t see how my not wanting to make things awkward again is stupid. I haven’t kissed you tonight, despite thinking about very little else from the moment I saw you standing in the sitting room looking all sexy and kissable.”

She’s never given her feet much thought at all when it comes to erogenous zones, but Teddy is managing to arouse her just by stroking her foot. She presses her thighs together at the unbidden image of him lying naked at the end of her bed licking her feet while stroking himself. His earlier teasing about her liking to watch is more accurate than she cares to admit, since she does find it exciting to watch her lover pleasure himself while she’s touching herself for his enjoyment. Teddy is looking at her expectantly, and she shifts in her chair, feeling his hand grip her foot more so she can’t pull it away.

“This is Friday, Teddy. Not Wednesday. Some things have changed since then,” she says primly, staring across the table at him. “A lot of things are still the same, of course, but you know about the complications and the risks, so it’s not really the right time to talk about all that again, especially when there’s no easy answer for any of it.”

“Then what’s changed?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s a lie, Hermione. You just said some things have changed. What things?”

“It’s not a lie. It’s just difficult to explain.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve made lists and analyzed things, you see, and I’ve realized that logic isn’t necessarily the best way to approach this situation.”

“By situation you mean our relationship? Because it _is_ a relationship now, even if you insist on calling it ‘whatever this is’ whenever you mention it. We’re dating, I want you, you want me, and I don’t mean just the sex, even if I really do want that, too.”

“Whatever this is between us does appear to be developing into something that could loosely defined as a relationship,” she acknowledges. “Though I’m not sure if your claim that we’re dating is entirely accurate or if we’ve dated is more appropriate.”

“Dat _ing_ ,” he says, stressing the latter half of the word. “I certainly don’t have any intention of stopping seeing you unless you tell me no, after all. Now, to get back to my earlier question before you started to try be all distracting with wetting your lips and looking at me that way, what’s changed?”

“Oh, honestly, Teddy, as if it’s not obvious,” she mutters, annoyed that he’s going to make her actually say it. He looks confused, though, even as he continues reducing her to a puddle of goo by massaging her foot as if he’s not even consciously doing it. She puts her heel on his thigh, feeling firm muscle beneath his trousers, and she licks her lips as she tries to focus on his question.

His gaze drops to her mouth as she licks her lips, and it takes him a moment before he looks back at her. His eyes are intense, in that same way that‘s slowly becoming more familiar, and his cheeks are flushed again, only this time, she‘s pretty sure it‘s arousal instead of embarrassment. “Maybe I’m the one who’s daft, then, because I’m utterly clueless at the moment.”

“You honestly don’t know? Bloody hell, I must be worse at this then I thought. I wanted to be subtle and natural, but not so subtle you don’t even realize what it’s happening.”

“Subtle about what?” he asks as he continues moving his thumb along the bottom of her foot. “What was I supposed to realize?”

“Having to tell you outright just proves my utter failure in this regard,” she points out. When he looks as if he‘s about to ask again, she smiles sheepishly even as she speaks matter-of-factly. “That I’m trying to seduce you, of course.”


	9. Gratification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione’s plan is successful

“You’re trying to seduce me?”

“Obviously. Though the keyword is ‘trying’.”

“Not obviously since I had no bloody idea.”

“Now, really, Teddy. How could you not?”

“Ted. And because it wasn’t obvious, maybe? You were trying to seduce me?”

“Haven’t we already established that or must you continue to remind me how woefully pathetic my attempts at seduction were?”

“I just don’t understand, Hermione. You were try---”

“Yes, I was. Seduce. To persuade or induce to sexual activity. Though, really, I think entice sounds much better than induce, which makes it sound quite underhanded.”

He stares at her for a moment before his lips quirk slightly. “And here I was hoping you meant it in the corruption and leading astray sense.”

“It’s not funny,” she mutters, wiggling her foot as she tries to get it free from his hand.

“Now, really, Hermione. Even you have to admit that this is pretty funny.”

“I don’t see the humor in this situation at all, so I can‘t make any such admissions.”

When she frowns at him, he shakes his head and moves his fingers along the bottom of her foot, tickling her. She shifts in her chair but he doesn’t let go. “So, this seduction of yours, why do you seem so convinced it was a failure?”

“Because you didn’t even realize it was happening and I wasn’t able to be subtle and accomplish my goal?”

“Ah, but subtle means that I wasn’t _supposed_ to realize. As for the rest, well, that depends on your goal. You mentioned, uh, persuading for sexual activity.”

“Yes, I did mention that, didn’t I?”

“Is that what you want?” he asks quietly, the teasing fading from his voice as he stares at her intently. “On Wednesday, you didn’t even want me to touch your ti-breasts, but now you’re wanting more?”

“On Wednesday, it was never a question of what I wanted. It just wasn’t the right time, and I got scared,” she explains calmly, nearly smiling when he catches himself before he says something other than breasts. “Now, though, I’ve had a chance to make lists and analyze everything, so I’m prepared and reasonably confident.”

He frowns and tugs on her toes while his hair changes to a dark purple. “So, you’re not scared anymore because you made lists? Or you were able to analyze everything and decided there's no reason to worry now?”

“I’m still scared, in some ways, and there are many issues to worry about, but I realize that those things aren’t going to change whether we become intimate now or later. The most logical idea is to let things progress naturally and worry about problems as they come up.”

“Logic. Right.” He looks at her, and she wishes she knew what he was thinking about. It’s funny how he can be so open sometimes and so inscrutable at others. “You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you? I mean, it’s not simply my charming personality and dashing good looks that have swept you off your feet?”

“Probably too much thought.” She lowers her voice and smiles slightly. “Lists with diagrams and charts, even.”

“Thank God,” he says. “If you’ve thought about it, there won’t be any regrets or claims about getting carried away, like the other night.” He runs his fingers through his hair and looks at her for a moment before he moves her foot slightly to the left. She gasps when he presses it down against the bulge in his trousers. “You were wrong, Hermione. Your seduction definitely _wasn’t_ a failure.”

“Oh.” She bites her lip and moves her foot slightly, watching his face as his eyes flutter half closed and he parts his lips. He’s not completely hard, not yet, but it’s obvious that he’s aroused just from talking about sex and her earlier attempts. It makes her feel rather powerful in a very feminine way. She glances down at her plate and then back up at him. 

Now that they’ve reached this point, she’s not really sure what to do next. With Ron, all it took was saying she was in the mood, and he’d usually be naked before she could finish speaking. Teddy is looking at her with desire, but he’s not done anything yet except prove his arousal. His hair is dark green again, and she notices streaks of turquoise that he might not even realize are there.

“Do you, uh, want to go to the bedroom? Or the sofa? Or, well, there’s a wall right there that even looks good, though I‘m not sure I‘d be able to stand up the first time.” He smiles sheepishly. “My knees get weak around you. And if that doesn’t make me sound pathetic, I don’t know what will.”

“Not pathetic,” she protests, moving her foot just a little. “However, I think the wall might not be the best choice, all things considered. We can go to the bedroom, if you’d like.”

“Hermione, I’d like anywhere you’ll actually let me have you. The bedroom is great.” Neither of them make a move to leave yet. He keeps staring at her, and he looks almost nervous, which she finds rather sweet. He bites his lip before he admits, “I’m sort of wondering if I didn’t fall asleep after work, before I came over. I think I’ve had a dream like this once, you see. Only you were stripping and I was…well, my hands were occupied.”

“Teddy!” She gapes at him and laughs when he blushes. “You’re not dreaming. If you were, I daresay there’d be far less talking and no fears.” She leans back in her chair and looks at him for a moment before she hesitantly raises her hand and fingers the first button of her blouse that isn't already unfastened. “I was stripping?”

“Uh huh,” he murmurs, shifting in his chair as his gaze falls to her hand. She can practically feel him throbbing against his trousers as she carefully unfastens the button. “Oh, God.”

“Like this?” She isn’t quite sure where this burst of courage came from, but she so rarely does anything bold that she decides to enjoy it while it lasts. She unbuttons a second button and watches his face as she moves her fingers along the bared skin.

“Close enough.”

“That’s not a yes,” she murmurs. She moves her fingers over the third button, teasing it as she feels warmth spread over her body. “How is it different?”

“How can you expect me to think right now?” he asks in a definite whining tone. “You’re better than any stupid dream.”

“Good answer. “ She smiles and unfastens the third button, letting the sides of her shirt fall open at the top. She blushes when he groans at the sight of her bra covered breasts, and her nipples tighten when he stares and licks his lips. Her foot has slid lower on his erection, so she kneads it with her toes as she leans back a little more, wanting him to keep looking at her that way.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. When he says that while staring at her, she almost believes that she _is_ beautiful instead of just being pretty. He moves his fingers along her calf, rubbing the silk stockings against her skin as he stares. “I want to touch you. Please? Can I?”

The question startles her, but there‘s only one thing she can say. “Yes.” 

Teddy moves suddenly, pushing his chair back and standing as soon as she finishes speaking. Her foot falls to the floor, and she watches him cross the short distance between his chair and hers. “You’re such a tease,” he accuses as he leans down to kiss her. He moves his fingers into her hair as he pulls her to her feet . “You drive me so crazy.“

When she’s standing, she moves against him and tilts her head back, parting her lips beneath his. “I’m not a tease,“ she murmurs, nipping at his lips lightly as he drags his hand down her back. She can feel his erection against her belly, and she reaches up to tug on his hair as she presses closer. She kisses him firmly, licking his tongue before the kiss deepens.

He tangles his fingers in her hair and urges her even closer, rocking against her as they kiss. She feels his hand on her side, sliding beneath her shirt hesitantly, as if he’s remembering the last time he tried to touch her. She pulls back and looks up at him as she reaches down to move his hand higher, whining softly when his fingers brush against the curve of her breast. “Fuck.” He looks down between them and watches as he moves his hand higher, no longer needing guided by her.

“Bedroom,” she says breathlessly. They’re standing in the dining room by the table, and she doesn’t want to risk urging him to just push her onto it and take her right there, no matter how tempting the idea.

“Right.” He pulls back and grins a rather goofy smile. “Want me to carry you? I could, you know. Give me a chance to show off my muscles and strength to possibly make up for my obliviousness earlier. Or is that one of those things that only works in books?”

“I don’t think you need to impress me at all, Teddy,” she tells him. “And I think there’s a time and a place for carrying, not just in books; however, this probably isn’t one of them.”

“I like impressing you, even if I don’t need to,” he admits. “So, uh, the bedroom now?”

“Yes, let's go upstairs.” She glances at the dinner plates and thinks about what a mess it’ll be to tidy up later.

“We’ll clean up first,” he suggests, shaking his head when she looks at him. “I don’t want anything on your mind except me, especially not dirty dinner dishes. Besides, it won’t take long at all.” He reaches for his wand and concentrates before he sends the dishes floating into the kitchen. Once the table is empty, he reaches for her again. “They can be cleaned in the morning, right?”

“I suppose so,” she decides, strangely touched that he knows her so well. She‘s also relieved that the table isn’t a mess, even if she rarely leaves dishes overnight. Tonight can be an exception. She takes his hand and leads him to the stairs, using her wand to extinguish the candles she uses instead of electric light. She leaves one lit and summons it towards them, letting it float up the stairs with them.

Halfway up the stairs, she nearly trips when she suddenly feels a hand caress her bum. She reaches for the rail and grips it tightly as she looks back at Teddy, who is smiling mischievously. “Sorry, it’s just, well, you’ve got a great arse, and it was tempting me to touch. If you’re going to glare, it should be at your bum.”

“Save the touching for when we’re not climbing stairs,” she says firmly. “And my bum doesn’t tempt, thank you very much.”

“Yes, it does. It’s all curvy and firm and enticing. So, it’s not my fault for being a man and giving in to my baser needs.”

“It might be your fault if you find yourself Flooing home before you step foot into my bedroom.”

“Point. Fine, I’ll resist in the future. But only on the stairs or when we’re in public. Anywhere else and it’s your fault for being so alluring.”

“Hmph,” she mutters as she continues up the stairs, smiling slightly when her head turns away from him. There’s something to be said for enthusiasm, because she feels more desirable than she has in years. Teddy’s blunt sincerity can be flustering at times, but it can also be quite flattering since he actually means what he says. Despite his many good qualities, Ron has never been one for casual compliments, nor has she really been someone who expects them.

“Still the same place?” Teddy’s voice is husky and low when he murmurs against her ear once they reach the top of the stairs. She shivers when she feels his hand on her lower back and nods. Before she can take a step, he’s pulling her into his arms and kissing her again. She feels a frame of one of the photographs in the hallway against the back of her head as he presses her against the wall. The kiss is fast, intense, and heated. When he pulls back, he stares down at her wide-eyed and pants softly. “Couldn’t wait for another kiss.”

“Impatient,” she accuses with a smile. She takes his hand and leads him down the hall to her bedroom. It’s the same room she shared with Ron for over a decade, so she’s grateful that she’s redecorated since Ron left. Otherwise, this would be awkward. The room is now a lovely pale blue, and the bed is new, since she let Ron have their old one. She almost didn’t get a large bed; it had seemed silly when she didn’t expect to be sharing it with anyone. However, she’d found one she really liked that happened to be bigger, so she doesn’t have to worry about them not having enough space.

“Nice room,” Teddy says before he smiles and pulls her to him. “Even nicer bed. And, for the record, I can be patient. This just isn't one of those times.”

“I suppose I should be glad that it’s not, since I really want to get those clothes off you,” she decides, reaching up to finger the top button of his shirt. “Would you like for me to take them off you or do you want to?”

He blinks down at her, and she notices that his cheeks are flushed. “Uh, well, you can, um, undress me,” he stammers, losing some of his confidence between the wall outside and the foot of the bed. She’s surprised, honestly, because she actually feels more confident now that they’re here and really about to do this. There are worries, of course, but she’s aroused and wants him. He leans down and kisses her, slow and teasing until he pulls back. “I want you to undress me. That’s just really fucking hot.”

“Language,” she murmurs, looking at him more closely. “Has no one else ever undressed you before?” She cringes when she realizes she actually asked that question out loud. “Sorry. We don’t need to discuss past experience because, somehow, I think that isn’t a mood enhancer.”

“No, they haven’t,” he says honestly. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he shakes his head slightly and smiles. “Do I just stand here and try not to touch so you can get me naked faster?”

“If I wanted to get you naked that fast, I’d just use a charm,” she muses. She smiles in what she hopes is a sensual manner as she unfastens the first button. She moves her fingers over his face, tracing his cheeks, jaw, and lips before she slides them down his throat and to the next button. “There are some times when slow is better.”

“Can we make a deal to leave the scolding for language for times when we’re not doing this because I have a feeling that I’m going to be saying fuck and other completely wicked and inappropriate words as this progresses.”

“I think there’s a time and place for such language,” she says primly even as she unfastens another button and moves her knuckles over the bare skin revealed to her. “Perhaps the bedroom can be one of those places.”

“Thank God.” He sighs and looks down to watch her hands as she unbuttons his shirt. 

When she finishes, she spreads it open and pushes it from his shoulders. He’s more muscular than she expects, and there’s not a lot of hair covering his torso. It’s scattered along his chest, though most seems to be concentrated on his lower abdomen, where there’s a narrow trail that leads past his trousers. Instead of moving her hands to his trousers, she touches his chest, rubbing his nipples with her thumbs and watching his face as she touches him. He moans, low and deep, and his hips jerk forward towards her.

“Take off your shoes, Teddy,” she says, stepping back as she watches him shrug the shirt off his arms. It falls to the floor, and he shifts and tries to balance himself as he removes his shoes. His erection is pressed against the front of his trousers, and she can’t help wondering about his size. She’s only ever had Ron, so she has nothing for comparison. She does have a toy that she uses when she gets really sexually frustrated, but it’s not much bigger in width than a few of her fingers. Once his shoes are off, she reaches for his trousers, but he grips her wrists.

“Since you did such an amazing job of removing my shirt, I should return the favor, right?” he asks, smiling even as he hesitates.

“It would be considerate and fair.”

“I’m a very considerate bloke. Unfortunately, you’ve already started doing all the work,” he scolds as he moves his hands along the sides of her half-open blouse. His hands are so big and warm that she strains forward for more touching. “I love your tits. Have since I was younger when I first discovered wanking and how bloody amazing tits could be.”

“Teddy,” she whines softly, wondering if he has any idea what affect his words are having on her. She’s not particularly fond of what people call ‘dirty talk’, but she loves words and hearing what her partner likes and wants, which can occasionally be vulgar. He sounds so amazed that he’s actually getting to touch her that it’s even more arousing.

“Ted,” he murmurs, smirking slightly as some of his earlier confidence returns. He moves his hand up to fully cup her breast, squeezing lightly as stares down at her chest. “Fit perfect. Always thought they would.”

He lets go of her breast and focuses on unbuttoning her blouse. After a little fumbling and a moment when she thinks he’s going to get so frustrated that he’ll just rip it open the rest of the way, he finally finishes with the last button. He eases her blouse off her shoulders and just stares at her. She’s a little self-conscious as he looks, hoping he ignores the swell of her tummy and the faint scar beneath her breast from a long ago fight at the Ministry of Magic. She has a couple of other scars from the war, from the night Bellatrix Lestrange interrogated her, but the one from Dolohov is the worst.

Annoyed with herself for being concerned about her appearance, she pulls the shirt further down her arms until it’s off. Instead of letting it fall to the floor, she folds it and tosses it on a chair nearby. Now she’s standing there in her bra and skirt, and the slowness is starting to frustrate her despite it being her idea. She has little doubt that Teddy wouldn’t have just pushed her onto the bed and gone to it if she hadn’t started with the teasing. He manages to surprise her again when he lowers his head and kisses the scar from Dolohov. His tongue is wet and feels good as he licks up to where the scar disappears beneath her bra.

“From the war?” he asks softly, raising his head and staring at her. She nods, and he cups her breast again, slowly moving his thumb over her cotton-covered nipple. “Can I take this off now or should I wait? I’m not sure how much longer I _can_ wait, if we’re being completely honest, but I’m trying for patience because you like going slow.”

“You can take it off,” she murmurs. He smiles and reaches behind her, fumbling with the clasp far longer than she expects. It’s nearly as bad as Ron the first few times they--- _Stop it, Hermione. No comparisons._ “Teddy, you’re not trying to fight it. Just move your fingers over the material until you feel the junction. Then determine which direction it’s clasped and ease the part that’s fit into the clasp in the opposite direction until its open.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, leaning his head down against her shoulder as he goes slower and obeys her directions. Finally, her bra is unclasped, and she feels the cups give as they fall away from her breasts. He kisses her shoulder and pulls back, his hair a bright red she remembers from the other day when he was embarrassed. “It was tricky, and I haven’t had to---”

His voice trails off as he stares down between them. Her bra is hanging off, the straps midway down her arms, and her breasts sway as she shifts to remove it, tossing it on the chair with her shirt. Instead of reaching out to grope her, as she expects, he’s almost shy as he moves his hand along her collarbone and down her breastbone. He looks up at her, hair falling across his eyes as he licks his lips. 

“You can touch,” she murmurs, not entirely certain that’s the silent question he seems to be asking. She seems to have guessed right because he groans and moves both his hands over her breasts. His age is more apparent in these moments than it’s ever been before. He’s squeezing her breasts and weighing them in his large hands, and he’s pulling on her nipples in a way that makes heat build in her belly even as she frowns slightly at his roughness.

“What am I doing wrong?” he asks quietly. He releases her breasts and steps back. “You’re frowning, and I really don’t think that should be your reaction.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Teddy. It’s just that, personally, I’m not very fond of being roughly groped,” she tells him honestly. “I mean, a little rough can be quite enjoyable, but my breasts are sensitive, so too much can be more painful than pleasurable. Other women prefer it differently, of course, as everyone is individual with their likes and dislikes, even if a lot of us share some common enjoyments.”

“I hurt you?”

“No! It feels quite nice, actually, but you were getting rougher than I prefer, is all.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Hermione. Ever.”

“That’s sweet, but it’s not something that you can actually guarantee. People get hurt all the time, and some aspects of sex _are_ painful, at first. Deliberately hurting is much different, but I know you’d not do that.” She reaches up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “I think we can go a little faster, if you’d like. I’m becoming rather impatient.”

“I want to do this right,” he says earnestly. He steps closer and touches her breast, being far too hesitant and careful. It’s probably a sign of her perversity that she finds it arousing to teach him, and to show him how to please her. 

She moves her hand over his and smiles at him as she urges his hand to close more firmly around her breast. Guiding his hand, she moves it over her breast and her nipples, silently instructing on what she enjoys the most until she moans softly. He licks her neck and nibbles on her skin as he brings his free hand up to caress her other breast. Bloody hell, he’s a fast learner.

“Now that’s a more appropriate reaction,” he murmurs before he kisses her hard and fast. He grips her bum as her breasts are mashed against his chest, and then they’re falling onto the bed and rolling until he’s above her. She hopes this means the talking is over for awhile. As much as she loves conversation, even during sex sometimes, there’s a time when she wants to just stop talking and thinking and just feel. He presses his erection against her leg, rocking his hips forward as he kisses her lips and neck.

“Trousers off,” she murmurs, reaching down to unfasten them. The button is impossible, but she finally manages to get it through the hole, then she unzips his trousers, rubbing her palm against his bulge. She raises up at his hoarse growl so he can unzip her skirt, letting him push it down until she can kick it off. She’s still wearing her knickers and stockings, and his trousers are now around his thighs as she moves her hand down his back and grips his bum firmly.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps when he raises up to push his trousers off and sees her stockings and knickers. “You---those---work---oh, fuck.”

“Stop talking,” she mutters, looking him over as he shoves his trousers off and lets them fall on the floor. God, he’s better looking than she expects. Slender and firm with muscles and skin that is far too golden for spring when she looks like a pale pasty thing. His hipbones are tempting her to nibble, but that can wait for another time. His boxer shorts are tented, his erection straining against the fabric, and she sees him shudder when she reaches down to caress the bulge.

He moves back over her and kisses her again, groaning when she eases the boxers down past his bum so she can reach his erection. He’s hot and throbbing in her hand, a little wider than she’s used to, though she doesn’t know about length. Her belly tightens at the thought of him pushing inside her, of stretching around his width, and she whines softly as he bucks forward into her hand. She feels his hand on her breast, squeezing the way she showed him, and she strokes his length, unable to believe that she’s actually lying in her bed with Teddy’s cock in her hand.

“Hermione,” he moans suddenly as he tenses above her. She watches him arch his back, and sees his face twisted in pleasure as he grunts. He trembles for a moment before she feels wetness splash onto her hand and thigh. His hips jerk, and he twitches in her hand as he comes. Soon, her fingers are covered in hot, sticky wet, and he’s gasping against her neck as he rides out his orgasm.

Well, it’s certainly been a very long time since _that’s_ happened to her. She shifts beneath him and releases his softening cock, feeling an ache between her legs that doesn’t care that he found pleasure because she’s still partially dressed. She hears him groan against the pillow before he raises his head and looks at her. His hair’s bright red again, as are his cheeks, and his wet lips are twisted into a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, didn’t mean to, um, it was just, you and hands and tits and, fuck. I don’t usually, I don’t think. When I, uh, when it’s just me, it can go much longer. Oh, fuck.”

“Teddy, stop,” she murmurs. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. In a way, it’s flattering, even if it does leave me hanging, so to speak.“ She wants to sulk and rant because this certainly isn’t how her fantasies went over the last few months. She doesn’t even have her knickers off! But he looks so mortified that she can’t bring herself to mutter at him.

“Tell me what to do?” he asks solemnly. “That was bloody brilliant, and I want you to feel that way. While I am only twenty, which means I’ll be aroused again pretty easily, I want to please you. I just don’t know what to do.”

“I’m the same as other women, Teddy,” she reminds him. “Just do whatever you normally do.”

“Fuck,” he mutters. “That’s the thing. I don’t normally do anything.”

“You don’t please your partner?” she asks, more than a little surprise since he’s so attentive and sensual. Her eyes widen suddenly. “You’re not a virg-”

“No! I didn’t mean _that_ ,” he squeaks. “I‘ve done it a couple of times.”

“A couple of times?” she repeats slowly. “As in, with a couple of girls?”

“Well, that, too. But, um, I mean twice. The first time was utterly dreadful, and I didn’t even last as long as I did tonight, and the other was a few months after that and somewhat better, but it was over pretty fast, too. Not my fault then, since I made sure she went before me after that first time.”

“Twice? You’ve only had sex two times?” She gapes at him and looks him over before wondering what on Earth was wrong with women his age. By the time she was twenty, she and Ron had been together several years. “But, you’re twenty and very appealing.”

“I was also dating someone for more than two years that I respected and happened to be younger than I am,” he reminds quietly. “I love Victoire, even if I wasn’t in love with her, and I didn’t want to pressure or rush anything. The fact that neither of us minded just kissing and doing nothing else should probably have been a clue that we weren’t going to work out, but, still, I started dating her when I was seventeen and we just broke up several weeks ago, which means I was only with a couple of girls before I became involved with her."

“That’s---actually, it’s very sweet and shows how much you care about her,” she murmurs. “I had no idea.”

“It’s not something I go around bragging about.”

“It’s not bad, Teddy. If anything, it says a lot of lovely things about you. I just---you seem so confident a lot of the time, and you approached me, with the neck kissing in my office, and I assumed that you were knowledgeable.”

“I do read romance novels,” he points out with a slight smile. “And I am confident, usually. I just feel a bit lost right now because I want you to come, but I’m not sure what I should do. Will you tell me?”

“It’s nice to know that those romance novels are good for something,” she murmurs, still trying to wrap her mind around this startling information. He shifts above her and kisses her neck, distracting her from her thoughts as she tilts her head to give him better access. “My breasts. Kiss them.”

“Gladly.” He moves his head lower, kissing his way down to her breasts. She moans when he flicks his tongue against her nipple, reaching out to move her fingers into his hair as he begins to suck gently. Her knickers are soaked with arousal, and she wiggles beneath him, spreading her legs slightly so he’ll get the idea. When she’s about to reach for his hand and shove it between her legs, he moves his fingers along her thigh before he presses his palm against her cunt.

“More,” she urges, rolling her hips up towards him. He releases one nipple and moves his mouth to the other as he keeps moving his fingers along the damp crotch of her knickers.

“You’re so wet,” he mutters, breath warm against her wet skin. “These stockings are so fucking hot. Feel so good.” He’s rocking against her thigh as he teases her with his fingers. When he moves his hand to rest on her belly, wet fingers testament to her arousal, she starts to breathe harder, biting her lip as he slowly slides his hand lower. He pushes her knickers down, and she raises her hips so they can get shoved down around her thighs.

“Touch me, Teddy,” she demands, more breathless than firm, but he obeys. She whimpers when his long fingers move between her legs, stroking her wetness almost shyly before he becomes more confident. He rubs her clit with his knuckle and eases a finger inside her, groaning against her breast when she instinctively tightens around the intrusion. He adds a second finger at her whine, and she closes her eyes as she focuses on the sensations he’s causing.

His tongue is wet, his lips are full, and he sucks gently on her breast as he moves two fingers in and out of her. The feel of his hardening cock rubbing against her stockings is hotter than she’d expect, as is the fact that she’s actually still wearing them and her knickers are around her thighs. It’s depraved, in a way, but it still arouses her, so she’ll not pass judgment on herself right now. Instead, she rocks up against his hand and scratches his back while tugging on his hair.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers. She opens her eyes to find him staring at her as he moves his fingers faster and deeper, twisting them inside her as she starts to make noises that aren’t familiar anymore. He watches her face as he eases a third finger inside her, which is too much. She arches her back and gasps as her body adjusts to the width of his three long fingers. Distantly, she realizes that his cock is wider than that and shudders at the thought of him thrusting into her hard and fast.

He licks her nipple but keeps his gaze on her face, repeating movements that make her moan, and driving her to the brink with his fingers. She comes with a whimper, the tension and heat in her body becoming too much until she finally snaps and falls over the edge. When she can finally breathe again, she feels his fingers inside her and sees him looking at her in awe. She smiles lazily and stretches, feeling sated for the time being after such an intense orgasm.

“You can remove your fingers now,” she murmurs before she leans up and kisses him. He withdraws his hand from between her legs and then grips her bum with wet fingers as he pulls her closer. The kiss deepens as he lies beside her, and she rolls onto her side facing him. When the kiss breaks, she brushes her fingers through his turquoise hair.

“Thank you,” he says simply. “Not for the sex, though it’s smashing, but for giving me a chance, for taking the risk, for letting me into your bed. I don’t know. For a lot of things.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you, for a lot of things, too.” She reaches down and pushes her knickers down until she can kick them off. The stockings are wet from sweat and there’s going to be a stain where Teddy came on them, so she doesn’t bother to take them off yet. The garter belt, however, isn’t the most comfortable thing, so she unfastens it and throws it beside the bed, rather pleased that she resists the urge to fold it neatly.

“Welcome, of course,” he says. “Do you want to clean up? I could use a charm or do you prefer the Muggle way?”

She’s relieved more than she can say that he understands the desire to wash up after sex and not just lie in release after. “I don’t have a preference, necessarily. Right now, I think I’ll run to the loo, though, and charm the blanket after.”

“Those books never tell about the messy part of sex and the what to do after,” he muses. “Also, a lot of studies claim that men are so exhausted after good sex that they just fall asleep, but I’m not that tired at all. Of course, I, uh, didn’t last long enough for it to be complete sex.”

“I think people have different reactions to good sex, and it’s not necessarily something that can be studied and decided. Sometimes I’m sleepy or feel like snuggling, and sometimes I’m energetic and feel like doing it again. Right now, I’m sort of in-between.”

“I like snuggling,” he admits. “I know it’s probably not manly to confess such a thing, but it’s not like I can be that more embarrassed after earlier. Go to the loo, and I’ll take care of the mess out here.”

She leans over to kiss him and smiles. “I like that you’re just Teddy and not easily fitted into generic studies about typical male behavior,” she tells him before she rolls out of bed and heads to the loo. While there, she removes her stockings and runs water on them, letting them hang to dry. After she uses the toilet and cleans up, she goes back into the bedroom to find the blanket clean and her clothes neatly arranged on her chair. Teddy’s sitting on the bed with the sheet around his waist and looks very comfortable in her bed.

“If you need to use the loo---”

“I went to the guest toilet,” he says. “So.”

“Ah, okay. So?”

“I think I realize why most men apparently just fall asleep after. It means they don’t have to deal with this awkwardness of not really knowing if they’re allowed to stay or if they should get dressed and leave or if they might get lucky for a second time soon.”

She laughs softly as she crawls back into bed, lying beside him as she moves her fingers through his hair. “You’re allowed to stay, which nulls the second question,” she tells him before she kisses him. After she pulls back, she lies her head on his chest and smiles mischievously. “As for the last question? Well, we’ll see.”


	10. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

The morning after is strangely anticlimactic.

Not, of course, that Hermione has expectations to actually ruin. She’s never had a morning after in this particular circumstance for comparison, since she and Ron had been seriously involved by the time they had their first time together. So, she’s created her hypothesis based on other people’s woeful tales or what’s read in books. When she wakes up, it takes her a moment to realize what the heavy, warm shape pressed against her side is, and then she remembers last night. There isn’t any awkwardness, wish to run away, desire to send him on his way without even a cup of coffee, or moment where she’s forgotten his name, which is unsettlingly the most common story she overhears whenever females get together.

Perhaps it’s further evidence that she’s not like most women, but she doesn’t feel any of those reactions at all. Instead, she feels quite happy and relaxed. There’s something comforting about sleeping with someone. Not the sex, which is enjoyable, but the actual sleeping part. Strong arms around her body, the sound of even breathing, and warm skin as a pillow are all a wonderful thing to wake up to in the morning. One of the things she misses most about not being married is waking up in Ron’s arms.

Teddy’s grip is stronger, she notices. He’s holding her against him as if he’s unconsciously making sure she’s still there. She’s reminded of the children when they were younger, snuggling their favorite blanket, in Rose’s case, and stuffed dragon, in Hugo’s. Yet it’s not fair to compare Teddy to the children, so she pushes those thoughts from her mind before she can dwell upon them. His hair is brown when he sleeps, and he snores softly as he rests his head against her shoulder. She can feel a damp patch of skin where she assumes he’s drooled in the night, which makes her carefully check her own mouth.

Last week had been so busy that they’d both fallen asleep after they’d had sex. She remembers snuggling against him and talking quietly until she must have fallen asleep. It’s a relief that there’s no sense of panic or regret, because that’s not something she could predict regardless of how many lists she made. If anything, she feels content, which will probably scare her quite a lot when she’s not caught up in early morning post-sleep bliss. For now, she’s just going to just enjoy the moment.

As she lies there watching him sleep, she begins to debate whether she wants to get up, go to the loo, and then get back into bed, or if she should just go ahead and get up to start the day. There are actually several things she has to do later in the morning, mostly because Hugo will be home tomorrow, and she’ll need to stay around the house since she’s not sure what time he’ll be back. So, her usual Sunday errands are going to be done today to get them out of the way. It isn’t very easy to think about grocery shopping when a handsome young man is plastered against her side with his erection pressed into her hip. Remembering if she needs milk and bread just doesn’t quite compare.

The mattress moves, pulling her thoughts away from milk and erections, though it immediately goes back to the latter when Teddy stretches and rubs his against her. She glances over to find him blinking at her. He slowly smiles, which turns into a yawn, and tightens his grip around her waist. “You’re really here.”

“Where else would I be? We’re in my bed, after all.”

“Bratty even at,” he rolls his head back to look at the clock on the bedside table before facing her again, “6:23 in the morning. Too early for that.”

“I suppose I can wait seven more minutes, since 6:30 isn’t early at all.”

“Maybe not on a work day, but it is on a weekend. There’s a rule somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Maybe you’re just lazy.”

“Possibly. Or maybe I just know it takes me time to wake up and feel prepared to engage in verbal sparring with a worthy opponent such as yourself. Who happens to look quite beautiful in the morning.”

“Now you’re using compliments in an effort to distract me from your sleepy banter.”

“I’m stating the truth. If that happens to prove viable as a distraction, then I won’t complain.”

Before she can say anything else, he leans forward and kisses her. It’s sloppy and wet and the fact that she doesn’t mind is something else she stores away to analyze later. When he pulls back, she tries to glare. “Now you’re using kisses, too, which is very low and sneaky.”

“What can I say? I’m a sneaky bloke.” He grins as he moves his leg over hers and keeps staring at her. He reaches out to brush his fingers through her hair before he says, “I thought maybe last night was just a dream. Except for the part where I came before we actually even had sex, and I wasn‘t at all smooth and experienced.”

“It’s not a dream.” She smiles and reaches over to pinch his hip. “See? If it was a dream, I’d probably be doing something naughty and wanton instead of pinching you.”

“You also don’t talk so much in my dreams,” he tells her. “I mean, I love the talking because, well, it’s really nice to feel that connected with you. But, yeah, my fantasies are definitely the product of a horny twenty year old bloke’s imagination. I like reality better.”

“If I don’t talk much in these fantasies of yours, what is it that I do, exactly?”

“Your mouth is usually otherwise occupied,” he says innocently, moving his hand along her ribs. “Or you’re saying filthy things that you’d never actually say, and urging me to do thing to you.” He coughs and shifts, moving his hips more firmly against her. “And I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, should I?”

“Why not? I find it quite fascinating. So, in your dreams, I basically moan and demand sex a lot?”

“Unless you’re scolding me for being a bad---” He stops and blushes, hair flashing bright red as he ducks his head against her shoulder. “Forget I actually started to answer that, okay?”

She bites her lip to keep from laughing and wonders if he’s going to try to get a leg up or just rut against her. Men are such predictable, yet endearing, creatures. “That’s actually rather amusing, since my fantasies don’t involve a lot of talking, either.”

He raises his head and looks down at her. The red fades to dark purple as he arches a brow. “Your fantasies? You know, as I mentioned before, I’m definitely willing to act upon any that you have in mind. I owe you one after last night, anyway. At the table, with the shirt and, yeah. Definitely owe you.”

“Such a generous offer,” she says. “However, I think that my fantasies will stay private for now. Besides, this isn’t a situation where either of us owes the other anything. We both enjoyed last night, and I’m not opposed to doing it again.”

“You’re not?” He grins and slides his hand higher. “Maybe now?”

She feels his fingers brush against the underside of her breast, and she shifts slightly. She needs to use the toilet, which makes the idea of intercourse not particular appealing despite how easily aroused she seems to become around him. Of course, she could go to the toilet and come back, but once she’s out of bed, she hates to get back in, even for potentially great sex. He’s looking at her eagerly as he squeezes her breast, and she decides what she’ll do.

“Lie back,” she tells him, urging him off his side. She moves over him, running her fingers through his hair, and smiles before she kisses his jaw. “I won’t tell you my fantasies yet, but this is something I’ve been wanting to do for awhile.” She looks at him and sees him staring at her intensely even as he’s holding his breath. She laughs softly. “You can breathe, Teddy.”

“Right,” he murmurs, letting out his breath before he smiles sheepishly. “It’s just, uh, I really kind of like when you’re all in control and teaching me.”

“Oh?” She leans down and brushes her lips against his neck. “I really kind of like teaching you,” she admits before she moves her mouth lower. She flicks her tongue over his nipples, listening to him gasp as she lightly nips at them before continuing lower.

As she pushes the sheet down, she continues to lick and kiss his body, indulging in one of her more tame fantasies. It’s early morning, and he’s aroused from his sleep, which she knows from experience means he won’t last long at all. It’s not worth embarrassing him again by trying to have sex if he’ll come before she’s even halfway there. Fortunately, there are many enjoyable things they can do that don’t involve penetration.

When she reaches his abdomen, she moves her hand lower and grips his erection. He makes a strangled noise above her, which causes her to smirk as she begins to stroke him. She weighs her need to use the toilet against her arousal and desire to come, finally deciding she’s safe for one orgasm. She’s actually quite glad that he has no idea she’s debating whether she needs to use the toilet too much to let herself come, because he’d probably decide she was mental instead of appreciating her practicality.

By the time she's moved down to his cock, he’s rocking against her hand and murmuring incoherently. She looks at his face as she keeps moving her hand, watching it twist with pleasure as he surrenders in a way that she envies. It excites her, in all honestly, and she knows that part of her arousal is definitely caused by giving him pleasure, which she thinks is good. She moves her free hand down her body until she’s able to stroke herself, surprised by how wet she is considering he’s not touched her and she’s been thinking about toilets. God, she thinks too much.

She focuses on Teddy, and leans down to lick the head of his cock. She hears him whine before he arches up into her hand and spills onto her fingers. When he finally stops panting and starts to look embarrassed, she has to resist the urge to tell him that he managed to last longer than Ron usually did in the mornings at the same age. Somehow, she doesn’t think that’s a wise way to make him feel any better.

“I like watching your face when you come,” she tells him bluntly. It’s a bit more direct than she might normally be, but it succeeds in making him forget about coming so soon. This is one time when she’s at least prepared for it, so it’s not a disappointment. If anything, she’s impressed he managed to last as long as he did considering how hard he was and how much teasing she did beforehand.

“Yeah?” He smiles and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m glad, since I seem to do it so easily whenever I’m naked with you.”

“Morning erections rarely last long,” she says simply. She releases his spent cock and moves over his leg, straddling his firm thigh as she leans forward to kiss him. She begins to rub against him as she bites his bottom lip, sucking gently as he moves his arms and rests his hands on her hips. He catches on quick and pulls her more firmly against his leg as he curls his tongue around hers.

When he flips them over, she’s not expecting it. She moans as she finds herself on her back with him over her. He’s using his fingers now, rubbing her clit as he sucks her nipple. It doesn’t take long before she’s gasping as her body shudders. He has three fingers inside her, moving them fast and deep the way she needs, and it’s just too much. She feels him watching her as she comes, but she can’t really think about anything except the way he feels and smells and the pleasure she‘s experiencing. Once she’s calmed down, she blinks at him and smiles lazily, feeling sated even if it is, once again, due to his fingers.

“Mmm…that was nice,” she says, stretching before she kisses him languidly. Unfortunately, her need for the toilet now decides it can’t be ignored any longer, so she pulls back and smiles. “I have to use the toilet. Be right back.”

She rolls out of bed, blushing slightly at the awkward necessities that go hand in hand with taking a lover. Once she’s out of bed, she reaches for the nearest thing she can find to slip on, which happens to be his shirt from the night before. If she bypassed her own shirt because his is larger and smells nice, it’s merely coincidence, she tells herself as she puts it on and rushes across the room to the loo.

When she comes out, Teddy’s charmed the sheets, made the bed, and put on his trousers. His hair is wet, so she realizes he’s gone to the other toilet to wash up. He smiles as he looks at her. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“Am I?” She attempts to play innocent but his smug smile means she’s been caught. “It’s the first thing I reached.”

“It looks good on you,” he tells her. He stands up and shifts, opening his mouth before closing it again. 

After three attempts to say something, she arches a brow and purses her lips. “I think after what we’ve shared, you can speak to me without hesitation, Teddy.”

“Ted.” He smiles wryly. “Well, I was just going to say that you’re probably doubting my claims of stamina after your two recent experiences.”

“Those two examples have extenuating circumstances. Your first time with a woman in several years and morning erection aren’t exactly common. Well, the latter is, but it’s normal to not last that long in the morning, I think. Besides, it’s not as if it took me ages this morning, either.”

“Point. Still, it’s rather embarrassing,” he admits. “I’m surprised you haven’t decided to just forget trying again.”

“I’m not with you solely for sex. Besides, haven’t you ever heard that the third time’s the charm? I think you need to stop being so nervous and worried about impressing me,” she says. “And, yes, I know how amusing it is for _me_ to be telling you not to be so nervous.”

“I’m not, either.” He laughs and shakes his head. “With you just for sex, that is. I mean, the sex is wow, and that’s even after my fumbling, so I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I’m not giving a good impression of a fifteen year old who’s never seen a naked girl before.”

“It’ll be better than wow?” she suggests with a teasing smile.

“Very funny,” he mutters. “I’m far too happy today to even care about being teased. It’s like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one delectable, arousing, clever, beautiful package. Except for it sounding like you’re a gift or possession, because I definitely don’t want hexed.”

“Come on. I’ll make coffee and see what I have in the cabinets that’s suitable for breakfast. I have to go grocery shopping later, so there’s not too much, but we can always behave immaturely and steal some of Hugo’s sugary cereal.”

Teddy follows her out of the bedroom, and she has to glare at him twice for fondling her bum during the walk down the stairs. He smiles innocently each time, which isn’t at all innocent when his full lips are curved that way. When they reach the kitchen, she starts coffee, and then deliberately bends over to look in the fridge knowing he’ll have a view that should make her blush.

“Evil woman,” he groans before he moves behind her. He presses against her bum as he peers into the fridge. “See anything good?”

She glances over her shoulder and notices that his hair is burnt orange, which is one mood she hasn’t been able to place yet. There are a few colors whose moods are questionable, while others are more obvious. The burnt orange is one of the former. Of course, that’s only if her theory is actually valid and it’s not just whatever random color he feels like changing his hair to at any given time.

“It looks like there’s eggs, but I’m out of breakfast meats. There’s oatmeal and sugary cereal, or toast and eggs,” she says, wiggling just a little to be wicked before she straightens up.

“Cereal sounds good to me. So, Hugo’s coming home tomorrow?” he asks, going to the pantry to get a box of cereal.

“Yes, sometime in the late morning or early afternoon. Ron didn’t give a specific time, but, knowing him, they’ll not get an early start. He drove them, so they’ll not simply be Apparating.”

“He’s rather proud of that license. I saw it about a half dozen times once he got it.”

“I think nearly everyone at the Ministry has seen it that many times,” she says, laughing as she shakes her head. “Still, it’s good that he was able to pass, because he’s talked about owning an automobile for years, if only to make his father jealous.”

Teddy laughs and gets down two bowls for the cereal. “Since I’ll be losing you to another man tomorrow, will you have dinner with me tonight? I’ll even cook, in an attempt to impress you with my culinary talents.”

“You’re not going to lose me, if you even have me to begin with _to_ lose, which is still debatable. Though, my free time will basically disappear again.” She isn’t sure how to proceed with things between them. She wants to continue seeing him, even with the concerns she still has, but Hugo being home is going to make it even more complicated to see Teddy. She looks at him and smiles. “Dinner tonight sounds lovely. I’ll be there at seven?”

“Seven is perfect. Or earlier. I’ll be home, I’m sure.”

“Maybe six then.”

“Six is even better.”

“I’ll not go lower, Lupin.”

“Six is good. We can talk before we eat. You’ll be tired and cranky after a day of running errands, and I’ll have to do my utmost best to distract you from the crankiness.”

“In this case, you’re insufferably correct because shopping, especially at the supermarket on the weekend, definitely makes me cranky. However, good food and conversation with a handsome man certainly helps improve the mood. Will you be inviting one such man?”

“Just for that, I should invite Ogden and get him started on his latest medical condition. You’ll sit there listening to him talk about his stomach issues until you’ll be begging my forgiveness.”

“Point. Okay, I suppose you can be the handsome man since you’re resorting to blackmail.”

“It’s not blackmail. It’s simply persuasion.”

She pours them each a glass of orange juice and follows him to the table. “It’s blackmail if you’re using threats of Ogden’s indigestion troubles. If you’re using you and promises of an excellent meal, then it’s persuasion.”

“I stand corrected. Forget Ogden, then, and we’ll focus on me,” he says, putting a bowl of cereal down in front of her before he kisses her. When he pulls back, he smiles. “Kisses are a much better bargaining tool than Ogden or cooking, you know?”

“Yes, they are,” she has to agree, watching him sit down and start eating his cereal. His hair is turquoise again, and he keeps looking up at her and smiling, which makes her smile. It might not be a normal ‘morning after’, if there is such a thing, but she certainly has no complaints at all.


	11. Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy makes dinner

Dating is rather like riding a bicycle, or a broomstick if one is being magically compliant. Although, considering her experience with broomsticks, she's better off to consider the Muggle alternative in this case. Regardless of how many years it’s been since ‘dating’ has been a part of her life, Hermione remembers the basics pretty easily even if she can barely remember not being married anymore. Going out when you’re married isn’t quite the same, after all. It’s probably more of a psychological difference than anything else. While married, there isn’t a worry about sexy knickers, smooth legs, and provocative yet tasteful clothing. Maybe there is at the first, but she honestly can’t remember ever being very girly about such things during all her years with Ron.

Getting ready for her date with Teddy is rather infuriating because she _does_ feel ridiculously girly. It’s not necessarily something she enjoys feeling, because she prefers to just choose clothing that fits well and is comfortable and not care if there’s potential stubble missed after her shower. What’s really pathetic is that Teddy isn’t even likely to notice much less care. The boy has seen her in her ugliest knickers and still came quite easily, so it’s she who is concerned about these silly things.

For tonight, she’s chosen sexy knickers and a lace brassiere because she’s practical enough to know that there’s little chance she’ll be leaving before they’ve had sex again. After all, Hugo comes home tomorrow, which is going to severely limit her free time. It’s only logical to not waste tonight should they feel the urge to get naked. It’s just dinner at Teddy’s flat, so she decides to wear a simple brown skirt and a cream colored top. When she looks in the mirror, she makes a face because it looks like she’s going to work instead of dinner with a man she’ll end up shagging by the end of the night.

She changes the skirt after searching her wardrobe to find something that isn’t suitable for work. Once she puts on the rather cute and flirty black skirt that she doesn’t even remember buying, she approves of the combination. The blouse is low cut, but not so much so that her breasts just hang out, and the skirt is actually quite sexy. She doesn’t wear stockings; instead, she slips on a pair of sandals before she goes downstairs.

Her hair is loose tonight, still damp from her shower and falling down her back nearly to her waist. According to some people, she’s getting far too old to keep it so long, but she can’t bring herself to get it cut. She did years ago, when she was pregnant with Rose and then almost immediately with Hugo after mistakenly thinking the fates couldn’t possibly make her endure another pregnancy so soon after the first. Well, that was her excuse for being so relieved when she was able to actually have sex again, both physically and around having a demanding baby that didn’t understand Mummy wanted to shag Daddy, that she didn’t remember to take her potion for several weeks. By the time she realized she’d forgotten, Hugo was already forming.

He might not have been planned, but she’s grateful every day for that slip-up because, otherwise, they’d not have him. However, she’s taken her potions habitually ever since because two children is enough for now. When they were babies, it was just easier to have her hair shorter, and it’s grown out as they’ve grown up. She likes having long hair, so she doubts she'll ever cut it even if some people seem to think a woman over a certain age shouldn’t have such long hair. Who are they to tell her what to do, anyway?

It’s not quite six, so she goes into the kitchen to make sure she’s not left any chores undone. Her day has been busy since Teddy left this morning, full of errands and cleaning, but now she’s able to just relax tomorrow until Ron brings Hugo home. It’ll be nice to spend a little time reading for pleasure instead of working, so she’s going to enjoy that break. After she walks aimlessly around the kitchen, she laughs at herself and goes to the fireplace. It’s not too early, and Teddy did tell her to show up any time, which means it‘s pointless to try to find things to do when she really just wants to see him.

That realization causes her to stop suddenly, her fingers curled around the tin of Floo powder. It’s terribly easy to get caught up in the euphoria of dating and the pleasure of being intimate with someone she desires. Possibly _too_ easy, a nagging voice warns in the back of her mind. She sighs and leans her head forward against the mantel, looking down at the stone hearth. Despite knowing that all of her concerns are still present, she really just wants one more night to try her best not to think about reality. 

It sounds terrible, even in her thoughts, because what she has with Teddy is real, more real than anything she’s had in years, yet it’s almost like a fantasy because they’ve had a week without her children, with being able to see each other at night or on weekends, and she knows things will change tomorrow. The best way to look at things is that they’ve had an amazing week, if nothing else happens once it becomes more difficult to see each other and when they have to hide their relationship. 

The idea of hiding and keeping secrets doesn’t sit well with her at all, but she can’t think of any other logical way to handle this until she knows it’s either going to be temporary or it has potential that requires seriously thinking about what to do. Not that she hasn’t been thinking all this time, but there’s a difference between hypothetical possibilities and actual considerations. She shakes her head and smiles as she thinks about Teddy, wondering what he’ll make for dinner and if the third time will, indeed, be the charm.

After tossing in Floo powder, she steps through and enters Teddy’s flat. She can smell something cooking, but she can’t quite place it. Before she has a chance to do the charm to clean herself off, Teddy’s stepping forward and casting it He’s smiling and looks so excited to see her that she’s able to focus on now and worry about everything else later. “Thank you,” she says, smiling at him as he takes her hand.

“You’re early.” He grins as he leans down and brushes his lips against hers. “I’m glad. Hi.”

“Hi,” she murmurs before she kisses him lightly. “Something smells good.”

“Dinner’s not ready yet. I timed it so it would be done after six,” he tells her. “We can have wine while we wait, if you want. I bought a bottle earlier.”

“Wine would be lovely. And don’t worry about dinner. It’s still pretty early, after all.”

He nods, turquoise hair falling across his forehead as he stares at her. “You look beautiful. That skirt is really nice.”

“You look rather good yourself.” She looks him over, taking in the black trousers and dark green shirt with a lot more buttons than she finds necessary, and smiles.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might forget about dinner,” he warns, grinning as he reaches out to tug on her hair. “You can sit down while I get the wine. I’ll be right back.”

She considers following him into the kitchen, but he doesn’t have a lot of space, so she just goes to sit on the sofa. “How was your day?”

“My morning was smashing. The rest of the day has been pretty good. Getting better again now.” He comes back into the sitting room with two glasses and a bottle of wine. “Did you get all your errands run?”

“Yes, thankfully.” She kicks off her shoes and curls her feet up beside her on the sofa. “I managed to get everything done and stopped by to see my parents for a brief lunch.” She smiles wryly. “I hadn’t realized how much easier it is to see them when I have one or both of the children to act as a diversion. God, that makes me sound horrid, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t get along with your parents?” he asks as he sits down beside her. “I’ve never met them, but I assumed it was because they don‘t attend all the big family events.”

“I invite them, but they usually have excuses,” she says. “When I was younger, they were extremely supportive once I found out that I was magical. As the years went by, though, my life became more in this world than theirs, and I don’t know. We just didn’t have as much to talk about because I was so worried about the war and Harry. When I was seventeen, I did something stupid without their permission, and I don’t think they’ve ever forgiven me.”

He hands her a glass of wine and takes a sip from his own as he studies her. “What stupid thing did you do?”

“I bewitched them into believing they were other people and sent them to Australia,” she says matter-of-factly. “It was during the war, and they were in danger because of me. They also knew a lot about Harry, so it seemed to be the most logical action. Once the war was over, I removed the enchantment, but the damage was done. They’ve not trusted me since, and I honestly can’t blame them. It was a horrible thing to do, not giving them a choice, and maybe it’s more awkward around them because I’m ashamed.”

He stares at her as she looks away and takes a drink of her wine, wondering if he’ll think she’s terrible, too. There are few things she’s ever done in her life that she regrets, but that rash decision, regardless of how logical she thought it was at the time, is the worst. “Hermione,” he says softly, touching her jaw as he makes her look back at him. “It was war and you were only seventeen.”

“I was smart for my age, and I should have known better,” she says simply. “Looking back, I wonder if I unconsciously just wanted the easiest way to not have to worry about them dying or telling Harry’s secrets, which makes me a horrible person. I put our war above their lives.”

“My parents chose to fight despite the fact that I was only a couple of months old,” he reminds her. “People do things during war that might not make sense after but they feel right at the time. I don’t blame them for dying, even if I missed having a normal family. It’s not the same, I know, yet you did something that you felt was the best choice at the time. Would you do it again if you had to do it over?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “And your parents died trying to make this world safe for you to grow up. I sent my parents away in a rather selfish act. There‘s not really a comparison.”

“I sometimes wonder if my parents would do it again, if they knew they wouldn’t live through that battle. Would they choose death versus living and raising me? I never knew them, but I think they would without hesitation,” he tells her honestly. His hair has faded to a pale blue, and she reaches over to squeeze his hand. “The difference is that you’d hesitate, even if you did do it again.”

“They loved you,” she whispers. “I was there when your father came to tell Harry, and he was so happy. It couldn’t have been easy to have you during a war, especially since your mum was an Auror and probably wanted to be out there helping fight, but they did because you were important to them. Never doubt that, Teddy.”

“I know.” He smiles sheepishly and leans his head onto her shoulder. “There are just times when I miss never knowing them, or I hate them for dying without even thinking about me, which makes me the selfish one. God, how did we get onto this topic? Here I was intending to charm you, and I’m whining like a git.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was whining before you,” she says. “My parents have been an awkward situation for twenty years, but they’re alive and we do get along, even if it’s strained at times. I really don’t have any reason to complain.”

“Well, hopefully I can provide a nice distraction and get you focused on happier things.” He raises his head up and kisses her jaw. “I should probably go check the food, but I much prefer sitting here and snogging like teenagers.”

“Like teenagers? Oh so many years ago for you.” She laughs and kisses him lightly before she licks wine from his lips. “If you need to check the food, there’s time for snogging after.”

“It's been weeks since I was a teenager, thank you very much. And dinner can wait a little longer,” he murmurs as he leans over to put his glass on the table. He takes hers from her and sets it beside his. When he’s done, he tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her against him. She tilts her head back and parts her lips. He doesn’t kiss her mouth, though. He kisses her temple and her nose, her cheeks and her jaw, and finally presses his lips firmly against hers.

It’s slightly amazing at how they can experience so many emotions in such a short time, from happiness to sadness to desire. They touch, and her body begins to warm almost instantly, which is something she’s still not used to at all. When he kisses her, she closes her eyes and lets go for a few moments. There’s no teasing, not this time, so she curls her tongue around his and pulls him closer as seconds become minutes. His hand is on her thigh, his thumb drawing circles against her bare skin, and she moans into the kiss as he moves his hand higher.

The sound of a buzzer interrupts them. Teddy pulls back and mutters under his breath. His hair is green now, dark and rich, and she can’t help but smile when she straightens back up into a sitting position. “Is that my cue to say saved by the bell?”

“Very funny,” he says, kissing her quickly before he stands up and goes into the kitchen. “We’ll continue this after dinner.”

“I hope so,” she calls back, laughing softly as she picks up their glasses and stands. She walks to the dining table, which he’s set up very romantically. There are candles floating around, a red cloth covering it that looks new, and a bowl of salad already set out. She steals a tomato from the bowl because she’s pretty hungry after not eating much for lunch.

“It’s done, but it might need to cool,” he says, walking to the table with a round pan levitated before him. When she sees the homemade pizza, she grins. He notices and shrugs. “I know, pizza isn’t the most romantic thing in the world, but I make it really well and it doesn’t require much clean up.”

“I like pizza. After Ron left, it became a tradition for me and the children to have pizza on Sunday nights,” she tells him. “When Rose went to Hogwarts, Hugo and I continued that tradition. However, I’m often too lazy to actually make it myself, so we buy it at the supermarket to heat up. This looks much better.”

“I’ll have to make you all pizza one Sunday then.” He smiles and holds out a chair for her. “I mean, I assume that I’m allowed to continue stopping by sometimes, like before, even if you’re wanting to keep us private for now.”

“Yes, of course. I’d never suggest a change in normal routines.” She thinks it’ll be difficult to be around him privately without being able to tease or touch him. At work, it’s a different mindset, and she has to keep professional from personal all the time with various friends whose work brings them in contact with her. However, it’s not fair to prohibit him from being around her with others just because it’ll be strange to have to figure out a personal behavior now that their relationship has changed. She smiles at him after he sits. “The children would enjoy it, I’ve no doubt.”

“So would I. Now, the pizza has a little of everything,” he says, “but I think I kept off anything you don’t like. No onions or peppers.”

“And the fact that you know I dislike onions and peppers on my pizza, despite enjoying them in other dishes, is really quite intriguing. I don’t think Harry even realizes that quirk of mine.”

He smiles and leans back in his chair, moving his legs around hers. “Not that intriguing, actually. I’ve told you before I’m somewhat of an observer. Besides, I’ve ordered pizza for us during an occasional working lunch, so I remembered what you didn’t like.”

“Ah, but, see, I still find it intriguing because it says a lot about you, Ted Lupin. Not only are you observant, but you notice things that might make someone displeased, which is a very positive trait. You also use your knowledge to make people feel comfortable around you. There are times lately when I realize that I never actually knew you until you’ve let me. I just saw parts of you that suited wherever you were or what you were doing at the time.”

“Maybe so,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ve been changing myself, not just physically, to fit in for years, so I guess it’s just habit now. I mean, how I act with Gram wasn’t how Harry expected me to be and neither of those suited being at Hogwarts. I think we all have masks, or at least sides of our personality that aren’t really us completely. You do, with being so hard and focused at work yet also being an amazing mother who cares so much about her children, plus you were a little different with Ron than you are now at family gatherings and all.”

“Point. I don’t really see myself as having other personalities, but I suppose I do, in a general sense. But you still know me, at heart, yet I’m wondering now if I’ve ever really known you. You’re far more guarded and private than you seem since you’re outwardly very friendly and charming.”

“You know me better than most people, even before last Friday,” he says simply. “Now quit trying to analyze me and eat your food. We’ve got unfinished business waiting for after.”

“I wasn’t analyzing,” she denies. At his pointed look, she smiles. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s just who I am.” She puts salad on her plate and then takes a slice of the pizza, which really does look quite good. “No more analyzing at the dinner table. I’ll be good and eat, so we can get back to that unfinished business you mentioned.”


	12. Satisfaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy tend to unfinished business

The pizza is really good. There’s a perfect blend of spices, including one flavor that Hermione can’t quite place. She rarely makes homemade pizza herself, but she might have to try to more often if it can taste this good.

“What sea---”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“I didn’t even ask a question.”

“Ah, but you were going to, and I know what it is, so I’m answering before you have to ask.”

“You can’t possibly know what I was going to ask, Teddy.”

“Can too.”

“Can not.”

“Can too.”

“Oh, stop that!”

“You were eating the pizza and had that look of concentration on your face while you were licking the sauce from the end. You want to know what herbs I use for my sauce, but I’m not telling. See? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“You’re so infuriating sometimes.”

Teddy grins across the table at her and shakes his head. “You love it, though. If I were predictable and boring, you’d not feel so challenged.”

“Is it now time to analyze me?” she asks, reminding him of their conversation earlier. “Because I can certainly say that doing so _won’t_ put me in the mood for that unfinished business.”

“I’m not analyzing you, Hermione. I’m simply stating facts. You hate people who simply agree with you or kiss your arse without actually thinking for themselves. I do, too, so I can recognize it easily.”

She frowns at him before she takes another bite of pizza. After she swallows, she lightly kicks his leg. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“If I tell you, then there’s no reason for you to ask me to come over and make you pizza,” he says matter-of-factly. “As it stands, if you want more, I’ll have to cook it.”

“Very sneaky except for your habit of actually announcing your schemes before they can take effect. It gives me warning, so I can prepare to counter any such plans.”

“You could,” he admits, hair turning turquoise as he takes a bite of his pizza. He licks grease from his lips before he smiles. “But you don’t want to counter them, so I’m safe.”

“What if I do?”

“You don’t. I mean, it’s illogical, isn’t it? Why make me tell you how to cook it when you could sit around doing work or reading while I cook it, instead of doing it yourself?”

“Using logic is low and underhanded.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s just clever.”

“Point.” She laughs and glares at him playfully. “However, I do want to know your recipe for the sauce at some point.”

“Maybe one day,” he muses before he nudges her leg with his foot. “And you kicked me! Talk about playing dirty.”

“We weren’t. We were talking about your deviousness.”

“You know, I don’t think anyone has ever called me devious before. I’m flattered.”

“You would be.”

“If you’d spent twenty years being frank and uncomplicated, you might appreciate such a compliment.”

“You’re anything but uncomplicated, Teddy.”

“Ted.” He smiles. “That’s two swats to your bum in just the last ten minutes.”

“Why am I not surprised that you’re actually keeping track?”

“Because you know that I like to tease you about swatting that gorgeous arse of yours?”

“That was a hypothetical question. Of course, your response is definitely a plausible answer.”

“Finish your pizza, Hermione. I want to get naked.”

She blinks at him. “That’s very romantic. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me to strip so you can get a leg up.”

“Why would I tell you to strip when I could remove your clothes myself?” he asks innocently before he takes a drink of his wine.

Instead of replying, she slips off her shoe and moves her foot directly between his legs. She presses down and watches with some satisfaction as he chokes on his wine and coughs. When he gapes at her, but doesn’t attempt to move her foot, she smiles an innocent smile of her own. “What? If you can make blatantly suggestive comments regarding my clothes, it’s only fair that I can make gestures of my own.”

“Your foot on my cock goes beyond suggestive,” he mutters, smiling sheepishly as he wipes his mouth.

“Does it? Imagine that.”

“Oh, I have. Imagined that, that is. Along with a great many other things.”

“You’re very oversexed, even for a twenty year old,” she says primly, shifting slightly as she can’t help but wonder what he’s thought about.

“Actually, I’m _under_ sexed, especially for a bloke of twenty, which is why I’ve thought about sex so much.”

“I stand corrected.” She finishes her slice of pizza and contemplates having another versus declaring dinner over so they can move onto the nakedness. Finally, she decides that the pizza is too good to waste, and the sex certainly isn’t going anywhere. She takes a bite of her third slice and studies him. “So much?”

“I’m not going to discuss just how often I think about sex, Hermione. Unless you plan to give the same details, I think we can consider that a topic better left unanalyzed.”

“I think about sex more now that I’m divorced than I did when I was married. After Ron left, all I could seem to think about was how lonely the bed was, how much I wanted to just be held, and how unsatisfied I was having to give myself pleasure again. During the last few months, I’ve thought about it far more than is normal, I’m sure. And, yes, you can be smug because the sex dreams coincided with your employment in my department.”

He groans and runs his hands over his face. “I can’t be smug when you’ve now forced me into a position of having to share.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it, Ted,” she says, rather pleased that she remembers to say his name correctly.

“No, it’s only fair, since we’re trying to communicate and be honest with each other.“ His hair becomes streaked with bright red as he looks at her. “From the time I was fourteen, I’ve thought about sex. Most boys in my year started earlier, so I was a late bloomer, I guess. Once I started dating Victoire, I didn’t think about it nearly as much, which is odd, I know. Then, I left Hogwarts and only saw her on holidays and an occasional weekend when I could get up to Scotland, and the thoughts came back. _You_ can be smug because they became much worse when I started working at the Ministry and my old crush on you came back accompanied with hormones bouncing around in mass hysteria.”

She finishes her bite and takes a drink of wine before she licks her lips. “I’m the cause of bouncing hormones? Also, what old crush?”

“Definitely.” He shakes his head. “The crush I had from the time I hit puberty until I realized you’d never look at me the way I wanted. Well, not back then. If you didn’t know, I’ll be relieved that I wasn’t as obvious as I thought.”

“Is this your mother thing?” she asks curiously, remembering him saying something the other day about her being third choice for a mother when he was a child.

“God, no!” He makes a face. “I’m not that warped, thanks. Fleur is too overly gorgeous and Ginny is too athletic to catch my interest in a boy-girl sort of way. You’re just right for me, though. Smart, beautiful, caring, and a good sense of humor are pre-requisites for being considered crush-worthy, according to me.”

“I had no idea,” she admits. Suddenly, her eyes widen. “Wait, did you have this crush when you were fifteen?”

“Yep.” He laughs. “I spent the majority of that ‘helpful talk’ with a hard-on and trying to sneak peaks down your blouse.”

“Teddy!” She blushes and bites her lip. “That was supposed to be educational, not an excuse for you to look at my breasts.”

“I was fifteen, Hermione. _Everything_ at that age was an excuse to look at your breasts.” He glances down and smiles mischievously. “They’re very nice.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like my breasts.“ Her tone is dry even as she resists the urge to be somewhat smug that a young man finds her attractive enough to think about in such a way. “I can’t believe you were, uh, aroused during that talk,” she mutters, kicking at his foot when he tries to caress the back of her leg. “I was so embarrassed trying to discuss all of that with a teenage boy and cover everything necessary to keep you safe.”

He smiles. “You were very good. When I wasn’t looking at your chest, thinking about shagging you, or worrying about a banana being larger than I was, I really learned a lot.”

“You were envious of a banana?” She manages not to laugh but can’t help being amused at the knowledge of what goes through men’s minds sometimes. “Trust me, Ted. You have nothing to worry about.”

He preens at that, the red fading from his hair as he looks at her. “You about finished with dinner? If so, I’d like to try my hand at seducing you.”

“Just your hand?”

“And other bits.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner that makes her laugh.

She finishes her pizza and wipes her mouth before she nods. “I’m finished. That was excellent pizza. My compliments to the chef.”

“Thank you,” he says as he stands up. “Let me clear the table then we can, uh, well.” He shifts awkwardly and bites his lip in a manner that she knows means he’s thinking. “Have sex sounds rather crass, and get more comfortable sounds pretty stupid.”

“We could always go with your original thought,” she muses as she helps him clear the table. “Get naked?”

He laughs and reaches out to tug on her hair. “I knew you were making a fuss because you wanted to get naked, too.”

“You seem to know an awful lot. Or, at least, you think you do.”

“Oh, I know there’s plenty that I have to learn still. But you do want to get naked, yeah?”

“Actually, I was thinking about going home and taking a long soak in the bath with a good book,” she says as she tosses the disposable plates into the rubbish. “I’ve heard that ‘Pirate’s Wench’ is a riveting tale.”

“Tease,” he accuses as he moves behind her. She squeals when he moves his arm around her waist and picks her up. “I’m much more fascinating than some silly old book.”

“Put me down, you git.”

“Let me consider it.” He shifts her struggling body against him. “Nope. I think I’d rather have you keep squirming like that. Besides, I couldn’t carry you up your stairs, but my bedroom is right next door.”

“This Neanderthal-like behavior is not sweet or endearing.”

He carries her to his bedroom and puts her down by his bed. “Fine. I’ll put you down. You can walk the rest of the way on your own.”

She turns to glare at him, but he moves quickly, pulling her close as he leans down to kiss her. It really isn’t fair that he can distract her so easily with a kiss. When he pulls back, she manages to get her glare in, though it’s probably not nearly as effective since her lips are wet and she’s breathing heavily. “I’m not one of those women who like being carried around and treated like they’re docile.”

“You’re anything but tame, Hermione. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood or anything. I just wanted to carry you to bed, which probably makes me sound ridic---”

This time, she kisses him. She’s reminded him that she’s not a weak submissive woman, not that she thinks he had any such ideas, and now she’s ready to move on. He tastes like wine and spicy sauce along with the indescribable flavor that’s just _him_. The kiss deepens, and they both start to undress each other, hands fumbling with buttons and zips until they finally pull away laughing.

“I think we need a better plan,” she says, glancing at his half-unbuttoned shirt and her crooked skirt.

“I don’t know if we actually need a plan for this,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his dark green hair. “Maybe we can just go with it and see what feels good?”

“Just go with it,” she repeats slowly. Last night had been roughly planned, with details left to whatever happened, and she had approached the sex this morning with a tactic in mind due to the nature of it. God, what if she’s now unable to just be spontaneous with sex? Is she so controlling that she can’t let go completely for something so pleasurable?

Wet lips on her skin pull her from her thoughts. Teddy is now shirtless and obviously is tired of waiting for her response. He’s also observant enough to realize a good way to get her to stop thinking so much is to kiss her neck. Before she can say anything, he raises his head and looks at her intently. “Let me make you forget how to think?” he asks quietly. There’s a huskiness in his tone that makes her body say yes even as she’s trying to determine if this is a good idea.

“You can try,” she murmurs, knowing she’s challenging him even as she’s surrendering. He smiles, obviously relieved at her agreement even as he focuses in that intense way that means he’s concentrating.

“If I do something you don’t like, let me know,” he says before he looks down and unbuttons her shirt. Once it’s unfastened, he eases it off her shoulders and drops it on the floor. He traces the lace cups of her bra and smiles. “This is very sexy. Would I be arrogant if I assumed you wore this hoping I’d see it?”

“You’re arrogant anyway.”

He laughs and kisses her before he whispers against her neck, “I thought you looked beautiful in simple cotton, though this is definitely good, too. However, it needs to be taken off now.”

Instead of unclasping it, he moves around behind her, touching her belly and ribs before he kisses her shoulder. He raises her hair and lets it fall over her shoulders, kissing the back of her neck as he lets go of her hair. “Teddy, you’re teasing.”

He swats her bum lightly, caressing it after as he nibbles her skin. “Stop whining, Hermione.”

“I wasn’t whining,” she denies, shuddering slightly when he licks her spine. Finally, he unfastens her bra, and she feels it fall away from her breasts. He cups them from behind, tweaking her nipples as he continues kissing her back. His hands move lower as he shifts behind her. She gasps when he suddenly kisses the sensitive area of her lower back, arching forward only to find his hand on her tummy keeping her steady.

“You have amazing skin,” he murmurs before he licks, making her giggle before she can stop herself as he finds a ticklish spot. She hears the sound of a zip lowering as the waist of her skirt gives way. He eases the material down past her hips, and she steps out of it at his urging. When she feels his breath on the back of her legs, she bites her lip and waits, having no idea what he plans to do next.

He kisses the back of her knee and then licks his way up to the edge of her knickers. There’s still hesitancy in his touch, more from lack of experience and uncertainty than lack of confidence, yet he’s managed to arouse her more than she cares to admit just by touching her with his hands and mouth, and not even somewhere she expects to find arousing. When he stands and pulls her back to the bed, she’s surprised. Her knickers are still on, but he doesn’t seem too concerned.

When she’s lying on her back, he moves above her and fingers the lace front of her knickers. “Now these are ridiculously sexy,” he says, grinning at her as he leans down to lick her nipple. He sucks gently as he slides his hand beneath her knickers. He remembers last night, obviously, because she’s soon moaning softly under his ministrations. She’s unbelievably wet, and just becomes more so when he moves his fingers along her folds.

He still has on his trousers, which isn’t fair at all. She can feel his erection against her hip, pressing against the fabric as he rubs against her. Before she can press back, he shifts away from her. There are soon two fingers inside her, though the knickers make the angle very awkward. She shifts and reaches down to push them out of the way, raising her hips as he pulls them down. Once they’re off, he moves his fingers back into her, and he’s able to move them faster and deeper. 

She reaches for him, but he keeps his body away from hers. Finally, she gives up trying to touch him and moves her fingers into his hair, urging him closer as he sucks her nipples. It feels really good, and she likes being able to just relax and enjoy it. He focuses on her breasts and keeps moving his fingers, touching her in all the right spots. It isn’t long under his intense focus before she feels herself falling. She whines softly and comes, gripping his hair hard as the tremors spread over her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers before he kisses her, dragging wet fingertips along the curve of her hip as he reaches around to grip her bum. When he breaks the kiss, he smiles down at her. “God, I want you so much. Can I have you? Please?”

“Of course,” she murmurs, wondering if there’s any doubt at all that she’d say yes. She reaches down to help unfasten his trousers, but he shakes his head.

“No. I mean, I’d love to have help, but I want to make sure that I manage to do this right this time,” he admits, blushing faintly as he ducks his head. “I’m being extremely careful tonight so I can come inside you instead of on your thigh.”

“Oh, right.” She smiles and kisses him quickly. “I’ll not touch yet then.”

He grins and finishes unfastening his trousers, pushing them down and kicking them off along with his boxers. When he reaches for the drawer in his night table, she sees him bring out a familiar package.

“We don’t need that, Teddy. I’m on a potion,” she says softly.

“I bought a large box of these things after you agreed to give me a chance. I fully intend to use at least one,” he tells her with a wink. “Besides, I have to prove that I was actually listening to your lesson all those years ago, don’t I?”

“A large box? Hopeful, weren’t you?” she asks, raising up on her elbows to watch him grip his cock and put the condom on. It’s rather sexier than she expects, and she licks her lips as she studies his erection. He’s definitely going to stretch her, but she can’t wait to feel him inside her.

“What can I say? I’m optimistic,” he says huskily. He gets the condom on and moves between her legs, kissing her belly before working his way up her torso.

She shifts beneath him and reaches for him, trying to pull him against her. Once he’s higher, she moves her legs around his waist and arches against him, listening to him groan as she presses closer. “Now,” she murmurs, tangling her fingers in his hair as she leans up to kiss him.

“So demanding,” he mutters after the kiss ends. He smiles down at her as he shifts and slides against her. He tries again, but only rubs against her clit before his cock misses the target. After another attempt with a little more success but not enough, he reaches down and grips his cock as he positions himself. He slowly presses against her, and her breath catches as the head eases inside her.

The latex dulls the sensations for him, at least, that's what Ron claimed the few times she had him wear one during their years together, but it feels amazing to her. He begins to move his hips, pushing and pulling as she adjusts to his size. It’s too slow or maybe she’s just impatient. Either way, she wants more. She tightens her legs around his waist and thrusts up, gasping as he enters her fully. “Fuck,” she curses, not even realizing what she says as he caresses her breast and looks at her.

“You okay?” he asks worriedly. She nods and gives her body a moment before she wiggles against him. It’s been too long since she‘s felt like this, yet she’s definitely not forgotten what to do. He starts moving again, being much too gentle at first. 

It’s considerate, but also annoying because she’s not glass nor is she a virgin. She scratches his back and rocks against him. He seems to understand, and he’s soon thrusting hard and deep. She rolls her hips, stroking his back and hair as they kiss again. Teddy kisses his way down her neck before he raises his head and looks at her breasts, which are bouncing all over the place as they move faster. 

He seems to like it, because he stares for a moment before he leans down and tries to lick her nipple. He doesn't succeed, as he's far too tall for such contortions when they're actually in the process of shagging, but she feels his tongue on her skin before he gives up and focuses on moving in and out of her, going faster and deeper as she moves against him.

When his thrusts become more erratic and his hips jerk, she holds him as he shudders and spills into the condom. She hasn’t come again, but can’t complain because her earlier orgasm was toe curling, without a doubt. After Teddy stops quivering, he reaches between them and strokes her clit. He stays inside her, making shallow thrusts until she comes with a soft moan.

It takes her a moment to come down from her orgasm. When she does, Teddy is looking at her with a crooked grin on his lips. She smiles and brushes his damp hair back from his sweaty forehead. “That was lovely.”

“Lovely?” He laughs. “I suppose I’ll accept that and work towards ‘fucking fantastic’.” He shifts and carefully pulls out of her, removing the condom and tying it before he reaches for his wand and levitates it to the bin.

“It’s nice to have goals, particularly when I‘ll benefit from them,“ she says, smiling when he sticks his tongue out at her. “You know, that is very lazy, especially when the bin is just right there.”

“Right there would mean having to move more. I’m comfortable where I am.”

“I’m rather comfortable, too.” They just lie there for awhile, her curled up against him as they kiss and languidly touch bare skin. Eventually, though, she can’t ignore the stickiness between her legs and sweat on her skin, which is the worst part of sex. It would be absolutely brilliant if it could be amazing and satisfying every time without all the mess at the end.

He smiles. “I know. You need to use the toilet. It’s just across the hall. I’ll fix the sheets and go after you.”

“Thanks,” she says, kissing him before she rolls out of bed. She hurries about her business, since he has to go in after her. On the way out, they kiss again as he steps inside and she leaves. Once she’s in the bedroom, she sits on the bed and takes a look around. While she’s been to Teddy’s flat before, she hasn’t been in his bedroom, and she didn’t think to look around earlier because other things were on her mind.

It’s exceptionally neat and organized, which is surprising considering his apparent habit of letting clothes fall wherever they’re taken off. He has a bookcase that’s overflowing, and she wanders over to browse while waiting. She smiles when she sees an entire shelf full of what are obviously romance novels mixed amidst non-fiction and other genres of fiction. They have several of the same books, she notices.

There are framed photographs on his chest of drawers of his grandmother, Harry and his family, and one of Remus and Tonks that’s sitting at a slight angle. She touches the glass and sighs when she realizes that he must move that one a lot to look at it. “You’d be very proud of him,” she whispers at the beaming couple, flinching slightly at the idea of what they’d have to say if they knew she was standing naked in their son’s room. Well, Tonks would probably understand but she doesn’t know about Remus. She smiles wryly and looks away from the pictures, taking in other aspects of the room. 

“And here I thought I’d managed to make you stop thinking for awhile.”

She turns to find Teddy standing in the doorway watching her. “You’re far too quiet,” she scolds him. “And you were reasonably successful.”

“Reasonably successful?” he repeats slowly, advancing on her as his hair changes to burnt orange. “I happen to think I was more than reasonably.”

“Perhaps it was just a little more,” she muses, moving towards the bed as he stalks her. “But only a little.”

He moves quickly and pounces, making her squeal and laugh as he pins her to the bed and starts to tickle her. They kiss amidst the laughter, slow and thorough before he brushes his hand along her ribs. She looks up at him, tracing his smile with her fingers as he says, “That’s okay. It just means I’ll to do better next time. There‘ll be no thinking at some point tonight.”

She pulls him down and whispers, “Have I mentioned how much I love these goals of yours?”, before she kisses him again.


	13. Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Hugo come home

There’s something really wonderful about waking up in someone’s arms.

It’s such a small thing that many people might even overlook or consider routine, but Hermione notices it now more than she ever did in the past. It’s easy to take it for granted when you’re involved with someone or married. It’s just part of life and becomes common over time. Now that she’s been without that one small thing for several years, she’s much more aware of it when she wakes in Teddy’s arms for a second time in as many days.

Since she has to go home early because Hugo’s coming back this morning, she resists the urge to wake Teddy with her hand on his erection. Instead, she quietly gets out of bed before she goes to the bathroom and hops in the shower. When he pulls back the curtain and joins her in the shower, making sure to wash all the places she can’t reach, and then some, she ends up arriving home later than she planned. It’s still far earlier than Ron is likely to be dropping Hugo off, but it’s close enough that she feels a little rushed.

After making a pot of coffee and toast, she sits at the breakfast table and looks outside. Her hair is still damp, and she can practically taste Teddy on her lips. It’s tempting to forego coffee to keep his flavor on her tongue, but such an idea is ridiculous, so she takes a sip and watches the birds. She likes living away from town far more than she liked living in London during the first few years after the war. Harry and Ginny ended up settling in Godric’s Hollow after they married, which actually didn’t surprise her as much as Harry seemed to expect, and Ron wanted to live there, too. 

However, as much as she loves Harry and Ginny, she also likes having privacy, which wouldn't be likely if they were neighbors. After discussing it, she and Ron compromised by choosing a house near a Muggle town but far enough away that he could fly whenever he wanted. She fell in love with this old farmhouse as soon as she saw it, draft and all. It’s not new or beautiful in a modern sense, but she thinks it has an unique charm all its own, and it feels like home. The fact that their closest neighbors are a good five minute brisk walk, and that the small town can be reached by walking in under twenty minutes are also positives.

It was most likely the view from the back that convinced her this was the right home. There’s a stream on their property and tons of trees, a small garden that she manages to keep up with Neville’s assistance so she doesn’t end up killing everything, and there’s wildlife that can occasionally be seen from the breakfast table. It’s a great place to sit and think about nature and beauty, to calm down and just breathe when work gets stressful or the children are driving her crazy. This morning, it provides a lovely view as she finally forces herself to stop living in a joyous dream of a handsome young man flirting and of great sex, once the fumbling gave way to pleasure.

Reality, unfortunately, isn’t nearly so euphoric. She’s enjoyed the last week, and she’s happy that she took a chance because it’s the first time since she’s divorced that she’s felt attractive and desirable, and the first time she’s been tempted to have an affair, much less actually done so. Just because things are changing now that Hugo’s coming home doesn’t automatically mean that whatever is happening with Teddy will end, but it’s enough of a possibility that she’d be stupid not to consider what’ll happen if it does cool off.

For a week, she’s done her best to live for the moment, and she’s tried not to dwell upon all the complicated issues for the past few days. Her earlier considerations were accurate, however. Having sex doesn’t change the fact that she’s a mother, first and foremost, that Teddy is only twenty and still has so many endless possibilities for his future, that she’s become intimate with her best friend’s Godson who has practically been a part of the family since he was born, and that having sex hasn’t made her desire him less or not want to spend free time with him. No, that lasts has become even worse, if possible, mostly because she’s had an opportunity to really get to know him.

There isn’t really a point in trying to predict the future. She's a little worried because, once her nights are no longer free and most of her weekends include a rather mischievous eleven year old, she doubts Teddy will find her quite so appealing. In a few weeks, it'll only get worse; she’ll be adding a clever twelve year old to the mix, too. It’s not doubt that he cares, because she knows he does after the last week, but it’s simply being realistic. Some might call it pessimistic. Hermione just doesn’t see any reason to delude herself.

No number of lists or amount of diagramming will help with this, no matter how much she wishes they would. She made her choice, and she has no regrets. Whatever happens, it’s been wonderful to be with Teddy. No one knows about them, either, so it’ll be easier to settle back down if and when things do eventually come to an end. While she hates keeping part of her life, an important part, secret, it makes sense for it to be private. Right now, they’re just dating and having sex. If things do happen to progress beyond that, well, they’ll talk again and decide what to do, she figures.

After she finishes her coffee and toast, she cleans up the kitchen before she sits on the sofa with a book. All the chores are done, and she tries not to do work on Sundays. It's a habit she picked up early in her marriage with Ron when they chose Sunday as first their private day and then a family day once the children were born. It's also the day for the monthly brunch with Harry, which in recent years is brunch with Harry and Ron. Even if she sees them quite a lot for lunch or during a work day, their monthly Sunday brunch is ‘theirs’.

The book she’s reading is quite good, about a witch uncovering a previously unknown historical mystery, and she’s halfway through it by the time she hears an automobile approach the house. She reaches for her wand instinctively, unused to hearing the gravel crunch beneath the wheels that way, but then she remembers Ron’s license and the automobile he bought last summer. She marks her place with a bookmark that Rose made her years ago and goes to the door, excited to see Hugo.

When she steps outside, Ron’s turning off the engine and Hugo’s opening his door. “Mummy!” he yells, running towards her without even closing the door. She leans down and scoops him up into a big hug as he throws his arms around her neck and places a wet kiss on her cheek. “I missed you, Mummy!”

“I missed you, too,” she tells him, rubbing her nose against his before she becomes aware of something tickling the back of her neck. She glances behind her and sees that Hugo’s holding a bundle of flowers and weeds, with the former more prevalent.

“I brung you these flowers,” he says with a wide grin as he wiggles against her and shows her the bouquet. She doesn’t want to let him go yet, because it’s been over a week since she’s had Hugo-hugs, but he’s getting too big and heavy to carry for lengthy periods of time, so she sets him down and takes the flowers.

“Brought,” she corrects patiently. “They’re beautiful, Hugo. I’ll have to get a vase for them as soon as we go inside.”

“That’s what I _said_. I brought you these.” He rolls his eyes, which are so much like Ron’s that the gesture is particularly familiar.

“Don’t lie to your mum,” Ron warns as he walks up to join them. He smiles at her and gives her a hug, kissing her cheek before he ruffles Hugo’s hair. “I heard brung.”

“Did you have fun camping?” she asks before Hugo can decide if he wants to dispute Ron’s scolding or not. 

Hugo nods. “It was fun, but I missed you. Were you okay here without me?” he asks in that serious tone that only children seem capable of mastering. “I told Daddy that you’d be lonely without me.”

“I was very lonely,” she agrees, reaching out to brush his hair from his eyes.

“Did ya work too much?” He looks at Ron and smiles. “Daddy said that you were probably buried in paperwork, but I said that was just silly because you wouldn’t be able to breathe.”

“Did he?” She arches a brow and looks at Ron, who shrugs and laughs. “Yes, Daddy is very silly.”

“Watch it! I’m standing right here. If you’re going to insult me, at least do it behind my back.”

She looks at Hugo and grins at him before they both say, “Then turn around!” They laugh and she leans down to kiss Hugo’s cheek.

“Oi! I can feel the love,” Ron mutters dramatically before he sighs and does his best to look pitiful.

“We love you,” she says, rolling her eyes before she takes Hugo’s hand and leads him inside. “Would you like a cup of coffee before you head home? Or tea, since the coffee I made earlier is probably cold.”

“Tea would be great,” Ron say. “It’s going to be a long drive back if the motorway is as full as it was coming here. Bloody hell, people are crazy with their slow driving and stopping-starting nonsense. Makes me miss flying.”

“Daddy said naughty words on the way home,” Hugo volunteers, smiling sweetly when Ron looks at him.

“Tattletale.”

“Am not,” Hugo says. “I don’t tell Mummy lies, and she always tells you to mind your naughty words around us.”

“Daddy’s old enough to use those words,” she says, “but he’ll remember that they’re rude and bad to say from now on, won’t you, Daddy?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ron agrees, sticking his tongue out at her when Hugo walks ahead of them. She reaches over and lightly pinches his arm, laughing as she follows Hugo into the house.

“So, what all did you do during your trip?” she asks as she heads to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Hugo scoots a chair over to the counter, which catches her attention. He stands on it and carefully removes a vase from the cabinet, grinning proudly now that he’s tall enough to reach. If Rose takes after her, Hugo definitely takes after Ron and his family. George adores him, which should probably worry her more than it does because Hugo’s already mischievous enough without his uncle’s influence.

“We went swimming and fishing and walking,” Hugo tells her as he sits on the counter and kicks his feet out. His trainers are filthy, covered with mud from that hiking, most likely, but it’s dried, so it’s not made a mess on the floor, thankfully. Until now, as it starts to flake off as he moves his feet. “We also rode a horse! And Daddy told me scary stories and we had a fire and a tent and a telly and we had sweets for dinner! And Daddy caught fishes but tossed them right back into the stream cause he said it’s wrong to eat the poor little things. But they weren’t really that little and fishes don‘t have money, do they? So how could they be poor?”

How he manages to say all that with hardly taking a breath is astounding. When he asks about fish having money, she knows exactly how to answer. “Those are questions you’d have to ask Daddy. Mummy doesn’t know fish answers. And that’s very sweet of Daddy. He’s just a big softie, isn’t he?” She smiles at Ron as he comes into the kitchen after taking Hugo’s bag upstairs.

“Oi! I leave for three minutes, and you’re calling me soft? I’m right fit,” he defends, patting his flat stomach before he walks to the counter and sits right beside Hugo.

“Hugo was telling me about your trip, and all the fish you caught.”

Ron ducks his head and smiles sheepishly. “Well, those fish didn’t do anything except swim into the wrong place and give in to their hunger. Can’t really bring myself to kill something that’s just hungry. I feel empathy for those fish. Did you hear that? Big word that I actually know. Impressed?”

“I’m glad you’re obviously reading your Word-a-Day calendar that Rose bought you for Christmas,” she compliments.

“What does emthy mean?” Hugo looks at her curiously.

“I’ve got this one,” Ron says proudly. “It’s em _pa_ thy, and it means being able to imagine how something else feels, like I did with those fish. I’ve been hungry before, you see, and I wouldn’t want to be killed and eaten cause of it, so I had to toss them back.”

“Very good, Ronald. For that, I might just have to offer you lunch,” she says, laughing as he gives her his ‘I’m starving’ look. She goes to the pantry to see what she has before deciding that sandwiches are easy and fast. “Sandwiches sound good?”

“I’m _starving_ ,” Hugo says, grinning at her. “With crisps?”

“I don’t know. If you ate sweets most of your time with Daddy, maybe you should have carrots with your sandwich,” she muses, pursing her lips as if she’s considering the situation.

“Please?” Hugo whines, giving her his best puppy dog look. His red hair has fallen across his forehead, and she makes a mental note to take him to get it cut soon.

“Crisps are healthy, too. They’re potatoes or something,” Ron offers, winking at her as he sides with Hugo in a deliberate attempt to make Hugo forget about the ‘brought’ incident.

“Daddy says crisps are healthy.”

“Daddy also says that chocolate is one of the four basic food groups while conveniently forgetting vegetables,” she mutters. “Fine, we can have crisps, but no sweets tonight after dinner. We don’t want you turning into a rubbish bin for not eating anything healthy.”

Hugo giggles. “A bin with legs!”

Ron shakes his head and smiles at her. “So, how did you enjoy your week? Did you win your case on Friday?”

“It’s been nice,” she says, thinking how much of an understatement _that_ is. “And, yes, I won on Friday. Harry was there to take me for a pint after in celebration, so you don’t have to nag him for failing in his duties as best friend.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to hex the boss.” Ron runs his hand through his hair and rests his elbow on Hugo’s head, grinning when Hugo starts swatting at him. “Were you terribly lonely without the most amazing and brilliant men in your life around?”

“Of course,” she tells him, laughing as she cuts bread for their lunch. “Seriously, it was a really nice week. I managed to go to Portobello Road market last Saturday, and I had dinner with a friend a couple of nights.” She focuses on the food for a moment before she casually adds, “I actually had dinner with Teddy last night.” There. She’s being honest and vague and giving one definite fact, so it’s not lying at all. Plus, if she slips up at some point and mentions Teddy, Ron won’t be suspicious.

“Our Teddy? How’s he doing? He like it in your department or is he ready to try Aurors?” Ron asks curiously.

 _Our Teddy._ And there is the crux of one of the issues right there. As if she needs further proof that this is a complicated situation. “He’s doing well. He seems to like the work, but I don’t know if it’s something he wants to do full time, in terms of being a future career. I doubt you ever get him in the Aurors, though. He’s just not suited for it, and I think his connection with Harry might make it awkward, too.”

“Daddy, stop,” Hugo whines, glaring at him as he swats at his arm. Ron moves his elbow, and Hugo nods emphatically before he looks at Hermione and smiles.

“Yeah, he’s probably too gentle for the Aurors. Would be right handy having him, though, with those skills of his. But I guess it’s not for everyone,” he says in a tone that indicates that he can’t believe anyone would _not_ want to be an Auror, which she also hears in relation to anyone who signs for a team that isn’t the Chudley Cannons. “Lucky for him, he’s still young enough to decide what he likes best.”

“Hmm,” she says in a non-committal tone that she often uses while busy. This time, she’s using it to keep from flinching at how she feels to hear Ron say ‘still young enough’ about the man she just shagged that morning. When she finishes with the sandwiches, she glances at them. “Bums off the counter. I only allowed it this time because you’d both been gone for awhile.”

“Sounds better if you just say arses,” Ron points out as he hops down.

“Arses!” Hugo repeats, smiling mischievously as he looks at Hermione.

“What was that?” she asks, walking over to the counter. She grabs him and tickles his ribs before she helps him down. “If you say that word again before you’re at least sixteen, at which time we’ll discuss your maturity and determine if your vocabulary is extensive enough to merit the use of such a word or if you need to study more, then I’ll be forced to make you read the dictionary for two hours every night.”

“I won’t say it again,” Hugo promises quickly, having been forced to endure that punishment several times over the years for mimicking his father and uncles. He walks over to the table and sits down while she puts the weeds and flowers into water, using the vase he got from the cabinet.

She joins them, kissing the top of Hugo’s head and smiling at Ron as she takes a seat. “I’m really glad you boys are back,” she says honestly. She likes having her best friend and her son home again, even if it means her personal life will become more complex and difficult. She picks up her sandwich and glances at Ron. “So, tell me more about these poor ickle fish Hugo mentioned, you big old softie.”


	14. Interruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy have lunch

“I miss you.”

The words are so softly spoken that Hermione wonders if she’s imagined them. She glances up from her file to see Teddy standing in the doorway and knows she hasn’t. The office is quiet, and a quick look past him confirms that her assistant, Caroline, is on her lunch break. It’s the first chance she’s had all week to be alone with Teddy, and she takes the moment to move her gaze over him to get her fill before life interrupts.

“I miss you, too,” she murmurs softly. It’s already Thursday, and her week has been full of meetings and appointments that have kept her running most of the day. Ogden’s not been feeling well, so the majority of his cases have been unloaded, primarily onto her, and then she’s sorted them to hand off to others in the office. 

Since he resigned from the Wizengamot many years ago and became a prosecutor with the Ministry, he’s been incredibly active despite his age. She’s worried that he’s working too much, which is possibly ironic considering the number of hours she normally puts in a week along with caring for her children, so she’s happy to help lighten the load until St. Mungos either requires him to take a break or he feels better. 

However, the main issue with helping is that he generally takes cases that are very involved and dealing with archaic laws that many don’t even remember, much less know. She knows them, of course, since he’d never have concluded her internship if she hadn’t, but they’re not things she deals with every day, so it’s like studying for exams again, which requires extra work on top of everything else. Like her, though, he prefers to personally handle the cases that are in need of a strong hand and aren’t an easy win. 

There are others in the office more equipped to deal with open-and-shut, in her opinion, so she likes to focus on those that require attention and concentration. It doesn’t guarantee success, and there are even some in which further investigation has shown there is no need for a trial, but the reward of triumph means far more at the end of the day when there _is_ success. It’s also probably obvious to anyone who studies her case files and fourteen year history with the Department of Magical Law that there are similarities in some of her primary cases, most particularly those dealing with discrimination based on blood or species of magical creature, crimes involving women and children, and crimes involving those who believe wealth equates to freedom regardless of their actions.

When she sees Teddy looking at her, she realizes she’s drifted into her thoughts instead of enjoying the few minutes they have without Caroline underfoot. “How are you?” she asks quietly. _I want to kiss you_ remains unspoken.

“Busy,” he says softly, glancing at her lips. _I want to kiss you, too_ doesn’t need to be verbalized. It’s strange to see him in the office where he usually keeps his hair its normal brown color after so many hours of watching it change to possibly reflect his moods. It makes it more difficult to read him, since he’s so very good at being reserved when he wants to be. He takes a step into her office and smiles as he nods at the files on her desk. “As I’m sure you understand, since you’re shouldering the majority of Ogden’s cases right now.”

“Very busy,” she agrees. She reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and moves her fingers along her braid to make sure it’s still reasonably tidy. “Fortunately, Ogden’s kept the two cases that he’s been working on for months. Most of these are relatively new, so it’s just analyzing the data and determining who in the office is best suited for each one. I’m not going to give up one of my personal cases, though, regardless of how many of these end up staying on my desk.”

“You’ve got at least one brilliant intern who’s ready and willing to help, at least,” he tells her, grinning as he reaches her desk. “I’ve been instructed by both Ron and Harry, during two separate visits on Monday, that I’m to keep an eye on you, make sure you take breaks for lunch, and that you get out of the office within an hour of overtime.”

“You have, have you?” she asks, arching a brow as she studies his face. She isn’t aware that her friends had been by the office, though Monday was spent in conferences with Ogden and Shacklebolt for most of the morning and then dealing with newly appointed cases in the afternoon, so it’s little surprise she missed their visits. She sighs and keeps looking at him, curling her fingers into her palm so she doesn’t give in to the desire to touch him. “Was it awkward?”

He shrugs. “Not really. Well, Ron mentioned something about my distracting you during Hugo’s trip with him, which certainly left me startled considering we’d agreed not to mention, uh, _distractions_ to anyone. I must have looked properly confused, because he laughed and said you’d mentioned having dinner with me. Harry is just…Harry. All intense and concerned but scared to death of you finding out that he’s being ‘such a man’ by worrying and you’ll hex his bollocks off.”

“So, of course, you’re sure to tell me about Harry’s visit,” she points out, smiling slightly as she imagines Harry’s reaction to hearing about Ogden. She’s surprised he hasn’t been by to see her himself, though she certainly understands Ron’s surprise visit with lunch during a break in her meetings yesterday. Silly, lovely boys.

“Of course. Can’t keep secrets like that, especially not when I’ve been instructed to keep my eyes on you,” he says solemnly, winking as he stares at her. “Tough job, that, but I suppose I can try. Besides, it‘s funny to see the head of the Aurors, the man who defeated Voldemort, scared of a hexing from you.”

“Why? Because I’m a weak, docile woman and not worth being scared of?”

“You weak and docile?” He laughs, his hair flashing turquoise as he shakes his head. “Not in the slightest. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, and that includes Gram, who seriously kicks arse. No, it’s because you’re a warm, caring woman who wouldn’t ever do permanent damage to your best friend, no matter how annoying and overbearing he becomes. Temporary damage, sure, but nothing too dangerous.”

“Harry _can_ be annoying at times, but I‘d never do serious damage,” she agrees, leaning back in her chair as she keeps looking at Teddy. She glances at the clock and the file on her desk before looking back at him. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“Not yet. I was working on that research for the files you gave me Tuesday. That’s a lot of dry information, let me tell you, but rather fascinating, too. Our legal system here has changed a lot in just the last twenty years, but even moreso compared to the earlier part of the century.”

“Spoken like a true history-geek,” she compliments. “One of Ogden’s first lessons to me was that you have to know the past in order to make the present a better place. He meant it in terms of knowing what horrible things were allowed, but also in regards to knowing the laws that are in place which can be used as tools to benefit our world now, too. Of course, there are also things I discovered during my internship with him that resulted in a meeting with Shacklebolt and proposals to have some laws abolished or changed. When some of those were first written, women were considered possessions and treated even more unfairly than House Elves.”

“He’s an amazing Minister,” Teddy says simply. He opens his mouth but closes it and glances at the floor, not saying whatever it is he intended to. When he looks back up at her, he smiles. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, but I think it’s time. I actually don’t have any meetings for a couple of hours, so maybe we can take a couple of these files with us and have a working lunch, if you’d like.”

“I’d like. Even if it involves working.” He lowers his voice and murmurs, “I’ve missed you, as I already mentioned.”

“Me too.” She gathers the file she’s been reviewing, since it’s one she plans to keep, and stands up. “We’ll just go to the usual place, I think.”

He nods and waits while she leaves Caroline a note saying she’s gone out for a working lunch and will be back in the office by early afternoon. They reach the lift and go up to the lobby, discussing the research he’s done along the way. The lift is crowded, so it’s not unusual for her to be standing so close to Teddy or for him to have his hand on the small of her back. Neither of them give any indication that they’re doing more than discussing work, even if she’s inhaling his scent and he’s rubbing his thumb against her shirt during the ride. When they make their way outside, she breathes in fresh air and smiles before they start the short walk to the local pub that‘s become a favorite lunch and after work pint spot since it opened a dozen years ago.

Finnigan’s is a short walk from the Ministry, and they reach it quickly. She looks around carefully and moves the tip of her wand against the brick before she steps through the wall with Teddy right behind her. From the outside, it appears to be an empty store front with broken glass and a faded sign. Inside, however, Seamus has created a welcoming pub that’s warm and enjoyable any time of the day. It’s crowded with Ministry employees on their lunch breaks as well as wizarding families out in this area of town who don’t want to make the walk to Diagon Alley.

“Hermione, you naughty little witch! You didn’t owl me that you were coming,” an amused voice scolds from nearby.

She turns to smile at Seamus and returns the hug that he gives her immediately. “I didn’t decide until just before we left the office. Besides, maybe I just wanted to surprise you.”

“You’re forgiven then. If you’d owled ahead, though, I’d have had a table all ready for you.“ Seamus laughs and nods at Teddy. “Lupin, nice to see you. Is the evil one here keeping you on a short leash or does she allow some freedom at work?”

Teddy considers the question and reaches out as if he’s touching an imaginary leash. “It’s not that short, but she’s definitely a slave driver.”

“That’s our girl,” Seamus sighs dramatically before winking at her. “You working through lunch or just having a bite to relax?”

She holds up the files. “Relax? What’s that?”

“Table in back it is,” he says, knowing her well enough to know that she’ll not want to sit right in the middle of the crowd if she has work to review. Seamus is a great pub owner, not that she knows any to compare him to. He recognizes all his regulars, is welcoming to strangers, and caters to those who are working or playing, with a quieter area in the back for the former. It’s probably why the pub is so successful and a natural choice for anyone magical who works in the area.

When they reach a free table, Teddy pulls a chair out for her, waiting until she sits before he takes a seat across from her. She looks at Seamus and notices him staring at Teddy curiously, probably trying to decide if he’s just being polite, kissing up to the boss, or if there’s a reason to arch his sandy brow and drawl something outrageous. Before he can make a decision, she speaks, not caring if she’s interrupting his thoughts. “What‘s the special today?”

Seamus looks at her and grins. “Bangers and mash with a pint,” he says. “It includes pudding, which is a choice of cake or treacle tart.”

“That sounds good, though I’d rather have water than a pint, since I’m working. Are you going to be the sweet adorable man I know and love and put in the order for me or will you force me to make it through that crowd at the bar to order?” She smiles sweetly and even bats her eyelashes a few times to make Seamus laugh.

“Listen to her,” he tells Teddy, clucking his tongue. “Using her feminine wiles to take advantage of me that way.” He grins. “Sure, I can let the bar know. What do you want, Lupin?”

“I’ll have the same, even the water since the Boss Lady might not approve of my having a pint during work.”

“I’ll let them know,” he says, leaning down to brush a quick kiss against Hermione’s cheek as he squeezes her shoulder. “It’s good to see you. Been too long. Yes, I know it was just two weeks ago, but that’s far too long. Next time, come in on the weekend and bring those kids of yours. Dean would like to catch up with you, I’m sure.”

She smiles and nods. “I will, after Rose gets back from school. Tell Dean I said hello.”

Seamus nods and wanders back into the main pub. After he’s gone, Teddy says, “You have nice friends.”

“I’m lucky that way,” she says honestly. “Even after so many years, we’ve all managed to keep in touch enough that it’s not awkward or weird whenever our paths cross. Of course, I doubt Seamus even knows the meaning of the word awkward.”

“I had friends at Hogwarts, some I’d even consider close, but we lost touch after school ended. I mean, I see a couple around the Ministry, and we occasionally share lunch, but we’re not close like you and your friends are twenty years later, and I’ve just been out of school for two years.”

“I think for us it might be a consequence of the war,” she says thoughtfully. “We were all forced to endure so much together, to help each other and fight together, that it gave us a common link that goes beyond attending the same school. I’m closer to those who were in my house because I was around them more often, but all of us have managed to keep a closeness regardless of houses or paths we took after the war. It’s become even larger of a group due to weddings and children and relationships that have brought in more people. When there’s a huge birthday party or wedding? It just amazes me how many of us attend and it feels like we saw each other just last week, regardless of how much time has passed. It sounds ridiculous and sentimental, I’m sure, but I look at it as one of the benefits from a truly horrible time.”

He listens to her and smiles. “It’s not sentimental. I like it. Growing up around Harry and all of you then working for George, I’ve been able to see it throughout the years, so I’m sort of one of those brought into the group from the outside, in a way, though not a full member. I also like watching you with your friends because I get a chance to learn more about you.”

“I like learning more about you, too,” she says softly, staring at him for several heartbeats before she finally looks down at the file she brought. “How have you been this week, besides busy?”

“I’m okay. It’s funny how easy it was to get used to having you around so much after just a week. Now, the flat feels empty and I remember Saturday night, and Sunday morning, as I sit there with a book or flipping through the stations on the telly. How are you? Did Hugo enjoy his holiday?”

“He had a lot of fun with Ron. Those two are like children sometimes, I swear. Hugo regresses to teasing Ron and being silly, which is really quite sweet, and Ron plays with him so well. He’s an excellent father, you know? The children adore him, and he can be stern yet playful in a way that I never have mastered. I have to give him credit, too, because he took along an actual book and continued Hugo’s reading lessons despite the holiday. Anyway, Hugo enjoyed the trip and has told me all about it several times since Sunday.”

“Is he getting any better with the reading? I remember you telling Gram about his struggles,” Teddy recalls.

“He’s improved a lot, with reading and his vocabulary. I’m not really sure if it’s something I should have worried about, but Rose was just so advanced that I didn’t have a general comparison. She was reading by age three, and she’s definitely taken after me in the respect of her studies and learning, though she somehow managed to inherit Ron’s love of Quidditch and actually intends to try out for the team next year because, as she says, Ravenclaw needs good players because she’s embarrassed at how badly they’ve lost this year.”

“She’s definitely a spitfire,” he agrees, grinning as he casually nudges her leg under the table. “Takes after you in more ways than one.”

“Not when it comes to Quidditch. According to her last letter, she and two of her Housemates, one of whom is the dastardly beating-her-marks-in-Transfiguration Malfoy, are planning to try out and make the team during their second year, which I’m sure will leave Ron extremely torn between supporting her big Quidditch plans and muttering about ’that bloody Malfoy’ being in Ravenclaw.’

“If Rose is like you, she’ll benefit from the competition of Quidditch as well as having students in her house that challenge her to do better, if only to be smug about besting them. Hopefully, she’ll also take an interest in Hugo when he starts there in September.”

“Hopefully,” she agrees. “I worry about him more than I did with her. He’s mischievous and energetic but he’s also gentle and vulnerable in a way that Rose isn’t. It’s not that he isn’t strong, because he definitely takes after me and Ron in that regard as well as being stubborn, but I just worry that it’ll be too overwhelming for him or he’ll not be ready. I don’t even mean his classes, because I know his reading disorder will cause some issues there, even with my reading everything from the dictionary to a fantasy book with him as 'punishment'. But he’s very determined and focused, so I’m pretty confident that he’ll overcome any problems in that regard. It's mostly him being on his own without me being there for support that concerns me.”

“See, that's my kind of punishment," Teddy says with a gentle smile, nudging her leg slightly. "He’s not going to be completely alone, Hermione. Besides Rose, he’ll have James, Al, Lily, Fred, Gideon, Mary, Fabian, Septimus, Will, and Sophie. There’s definitely a benefit to having a nearly a dozen cousins, with at least one in every house now that Septimus, Al and Rose have broken tradition by being sorted somewhere other than Gryffindor. Besides, that’s not even including a good dozen other children he’s familiar with from your and Ron’s friends.”

“It’s really not fair for you to be all logical when I’m being a worried mother,” she points out with a slight smile. “I know you’re right, but it’s easier to know something than it is to stop being concerned. He might be tall and gangly for his age, but Hugo’s a little behind when it comes to some things. I just hope he settles in well and doesn’t feel too weighed down with it all.”

“He’ll be fine. You and Ron are his parents, after all, which means he’s tougher than you might realize. Besides, as soon as he’s there, Fabian and Fred will instantly make him feel at home as they encourage that mischievous streak of his, so you should probably worry more about receiving owls from Flitwick than anything else.”

“God. Don’t even remind me. Those boys are certainly a handful. I’ll hex Percy and George myself if their sons get Hugo into detention within the first two months,” she vows, wishing for a moment that Minerva hadn’t retired before the children started school. Flitwick is definitely more likely to send her owls reporting bad behavior than Minerva, who would scold and give detention without feeling a need to keep her apprised of every infraction in detail.

Teddy laughs. “Maybe you can encourage him to think Hufflepuff thoughts during the sorting. It’s a great house,” he says in a preening manner. “Albus really likes it there, too.”

“It’s a good house. Honestly, I don’t care where Hugo ends up as long as he’s comfortable and happy. Ron, of course, would probably have a fit if he’s sent to Slytherin, if only because he wouldn’t be able to tease Percy about Septimus any longer. Last time I spoke to Padma, she said Percy had finally stopped muttering about ‘a child of mine in Slytherin’, though she admitted to wanting to hex him when he implied that any Slytherin qualities Septimus inherited were from her.”

“She should have. Slytherin isn’t a bad house just because some bad people belonged to it. If my history lessons are correct, there have been bad people in every house,” Teddy says simply. “It’s not the house that makes the people, after all. It’s the people who make the house. Of course, if I were her, I’d have hexed him way back when he insisted on naming Septimus. No offense, but that’s an awful name for a kid, even if he does generally go by Tim.”

“See, I can understand Septimus, because Percy named him for his grandfather. Family names are nice. I mean, Hugo is named after my grandfather, actually, while Rose is named after Ron’s grandmother. But I do think that Septimus Narendra is quite a mouthful for a child." She smiles slightly as she lowers her voice and says, "You were probably too young to understand, but there was a bit of a name drama back after Fabian was born. Septimus actually wasn't Percy's first choice as a name for his second child.”

He grins as their food is brought to the table before he asks, "I don't remember that at all. What happened?"

“I doubt anyone mentioned it around you, but it was quite a fuss for a short time," she recalls. "Percy intended to name his second born Gideon, after his other uncle who died during the first war. However, George had the twins a few months after Fabian was born and needed another name, since he and Angelina had only decided on Fred at the time. So, George stole Gideon, according to Percy, and there was a fuss at the time. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I assume George talked to Percy or he realized he was being silly, and they made up before the twins were even released from the hospital, but that's why Septimus was eventually chosen.”

Teddy laughs and shakes his head. "I never knew about that, but it is rather silly, isn't it? I mean, having new babies around should be fun, not a cause for fighting." He considers it a moment before he says, "You know, I bet George did it intentionally."

“Oh, I’ve no doubt he did, but I doubt he did it with malicious intent. Besides, Percy can’t really stay angry with him much anymore,” she says, her smile fading slightly as she thinks about why. She takes a bite of her lunch and wonders if their Fred ever looks in on his brother and his namesake, who has definitely inherited his mischievousness and cleverness.

Teddy starts to eat, but she can feel him watching her. When she glances at him, he grins. “Our family is rather crazy, but we’re lucky to be part of them, even if it’s not by blood.”

“Yes, we are,” she agrees softly. _Our family_. Who wouldn’t likely understand about them at all, and who they risk losing by continuing this risky relationship.

“None of that,” he says firmly. “Just eat your lunch and tell me about the file you brought. While I’d love nothing more than to snog you and shag you right against the wall there, I know we can’t, so I’ll just enjoy what I can get for now.”

She studies him a moment and smiles. “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? We can get some work done, and Hugo can tell you all about his holiday.”

“Really?” His hair changes to turquoise as he looks at her and smiles. “I’d love to, of course. Even before things changed, I always liked having dinner with you and the children. I can’t wait to hear about Hugo’s camping trip and to spend time with you.”

“Good. That’s settled then. Though I must warn you that you’ll probably hear so much about the trip that you’ll wish you’d never asked him,” she says, smiling slightly as she opens the file and continues eating. She’s nervous about Teddy coming over for dinner considering what’s happening between them and Hugo being there, but she misses him and really wants to see him, so it‘s definitely worth it.


	15. Relaxation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy has dinner with Hermione and Hugo

It’s been a hectic few hours.

After having a relatively quiet morning for once and even finding time to go to Finnigan’s with Teddy, Hermione arrives back at the office to find two unplanned meetings added to her afternoon schedule. Since they both involve Shacklebolt, she can’t very well cancel with an excuse that she has a headache and is _tired_ of meetings. After all, she wants to eventually be appointed head of the department, once Ogden retires.

The second meeting runs late, which means she has to hurry to the Burrow to pick up Hugo and it’s impossible to leave without having a cuppa with Molly, who frets over her long hours in that annoying maternal way that seems effortless. It makes her feel like a helpless twelve year old. When she and Hugo finally get home, it’s nearly seven, which is when she told Teddy to show up for dinner. Hugo’s very excited when she mentions that Teddy’s coming by to work and eat with them, so she has to deal with a bouncy child who wants to ‘help’ make dinner before their guest arrives.

She studies the contents of the fridge-freezer and pantry before deciding it’s a good night for breakfast. Hugo, of course, loves when they have breakfast for dinner because he can be in charge of toast and feel as if he’s contributing to the meal. She slices tomatoes, gathers rashers of bacon and sausage, counts out eggs, and adds a tin of baked beans since she’s going for a Full English, minus a few things that she just doesn’t have on hand. It’s not something she makes often, as there’s a lot to it and she rarely has time to spend doing much more than frying bacon and eggs, but it’s a good choice for dinner because it’s very filling.

“May I have a slice of tomato while we cook, Mum?”

“Yes, you may,” she agrees, smiling at Hugo as she summons a napkin and puts a slice of tomato on it before she levitates it to him. “Just be careful not to make a mess or get tomato juice on the bread.”

“Of _course_ ,” he says, shaking his head at her. “Toast shouldn’t be soggy with juice!”

“Soggy toast definitely isn’t any good.” She keeps an eye on him as he puts two slices of wheat bread into the Muggle toaster and pushes the lever down. Once he finishes, he chews on his tomato and stares at the toaster seriously. She smiles and looks back at the sausage. “How was your day?”

“I was _so_ busy,” he tells her. “Grandma had me hunting for gnomes in the garden, and I got muddy, so I had to take a bath. Yuck. I hate baths.”

“I’d think you’d hate being muddy more.”

“Nah. Being muddy is fun! I like playing with the gnomes, but they bite something awful.”

“Playing with? I thought you were hunting them.”

He smiles mischievously. “Grandma thinks I’m hunting them, but Lily and I play hide n seek with them instead. She’s a good hider!”

“I’m glad you enjoy playing with the gnomes, so long as you be careful and don’t lie to your grandmother,” she tells him.

“Wouldn’t lie to her. Just didn’t tell her she was wrong,” he says solemnly. “You wouldn’t like me to be rude to Grandma, right? So I can’t tell her she’s not right ‘bout something.”

“That logic will get you nowhere if your grandmother finds out you’re playing in her garden, Hugo.”

“Well, _I_ don't plan to tell her, so it's okay.” He looks back at the toaster and watches as the toast pops up. She finishes with the sausage and begins cooking the rashers of bacon. Hugo puts in two new slices of bread and settles down to watch the toaster. Before he can get comfortable, they hear the sound of the Floo. He grins and scrambles down off the stepstool he's sitting on before he races out of the kitchen and down the hall. “Teddy!”

Hermione bites her lip when she hears Teddy’s deep voice. This is ridiculous. She’s behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush instead of a mature woman who is above such things as butterflies in her belly and a racing pulse just from hearing someone speak. She has to get this under control. It's been relatively okay at work, because she's used to separating personal from professional, but having Teddy in her home is much more intimate. 

In a way, she's relieved that they're trying this with Hugo before daring to be around anyone who might notice any slips they could potentially make. Such as her behaving like a teenager just from listening to Teddy talk. Bloody hell, this isn't going to be easy.

“That’s quite a welcome, Hugo. Goodness, you’ve got taller since I last saw you. Are you sure you’re really Hugo?”

“Yes, I’m Hugo!” Hugo laughs. “Teddy, stop!”

“I’m just checking to make sure those are real ears. Can’t be too careful,” Teddy tells him, trying to sound serious but failing.

“I’m gonna be as tall as Daddy one day,” Hugo says. “Maybe even as tall as you! Don‘t tell Mum, though.” She arches a brow and glances towards the hallway where they’re walking towards the kitchen. “She won’t like it when I’m taller than her, but she’s _so_ short that I’m gonna be.”

“Your mum isn’t short. She’s just perfect,” Teddy declares as they step into the kitchen. He looks at her and smiles. “Evening, Hermione.”

“Perfect, am I?” she asks, looking from one to the other. “Don’t think I believe those innocent smiles one bit, you two.” She looks at Teddy and smiles. “Evening, Teddy.” She focuses on Hugo and arches a brow. "And you, Mister 'I'm so tall', need to remember that you take after both me and Daddy, which means there's a good chance you'll not be as tall as you think. Besides, I'm not _that_ short!"

“You're shorter than Daddy and Teddy and Uncle Harry, but I guess you _are_ taller than Aunt Ginny and Grandma. Still, I have to be taller than Albus or he'll never stop teasing me 'bout it." He nods as if the decision has been made before he looks at Teddy. "We’re having breakfast for dinner,” Hugo tells him. “And I’m making the toast!”

“Breakfast for dinner is great,” Teddy says, ruffling Hugo’s hair before he walks over to where she’s standing. “Anything I can do to help?”

“All I have left is finishing the bacon and cooking the eggs,” she says. “If you’d like, you can get a bowl from the cabinet and transfer the beans into it.”

“I can definitely do that.” He turns and looks at the cabinets, biting his lip as he studies them.

“Bowls are there,” Hugo offers helpfully, pointing to the correct cabinet.

“Thanks, Hugo. I knew I’d seen them before, but I couldn’t remember which cabinet.”

Hugo grins. “Mum sorts them alphabetically. Bowls start with B, so they go in that first cabinet with the cups. Plates and saucers are in the next one.”

“Alphabetical arrangement of dinnerware?” He looks at Hermione and arches a brow, grinning as his hair fades from brown to turquoise. “That sounds like your mum.”

“It used to drive Daddy spare,” Hugo says solemnly, obviously repeating something he’d heard many times over the years and probably doesn't quite understand. “Rose says it’s to help us learn our letters, though, so it’s important. Course, Rose is weird and likes to learn.”

“It’s not polite to talk about Mum when she’s standing right here listening,” she points out dryly, making a face at Teddy when he grins at her.

“So, do wine glasses go in the ‘G’ area or the ‘W’?” he asks curiously before he opens both cabinets. “Ah ha! The ‘W’, it seems.”

“Very funny,” she mutters, listening to Hugo giggle as he climbs back on the stepstool and watches the toast.

“Mum’s not really mad,” Hugo whispers far too loudly to ever be considered secretive. “If she’s _really_ mad, her face becomes red and she scowls a lot.”

“I’ll remember that,” Teddy whispers back.

She rolls her eyes but can’t help smiling, glad that her back is to them so they can’t see. She turns the bacon over before she feels someone standing behind her. Teddy is standing so close that she can smell him, even with the frying bacon in front of her, and he leans forward, causing his body to press right up against hers. “Teddy,” she hisses lowly.

“Just getting the beans,” he whispers, his breath warm against her ear and neck as he slowly reaches for the pot. He stumbles slightly, gripping her waist with his free hand and moving even closer as his breathing becomes heavier.

“Teddy, do you like white or wheat toast?”

The innocent question brings them back to reality instantly. Oh God. How can she ever manage to balance this when it's difficult just trying to be normal around Hugo? And Teddy isn't a help when he takes advantage of the first opportunity to touch under the guise of getting the beans. She counts to ten and forces herself to settle down. Teddy grips the handle of the pot and pulls back, not releasing his hold on her hip until he steps away. “Either one is good for me, Hugo.”

“I’ll make you one of each then,” Hugo decides.

It takes a moment for her to calm her racing pulse. When she does, she finishes with the bacon and starts the eggs. “Nearly done,” she tells them, pleased that her voice sounds steady and normal. One touch from Teddy, and she’s flushed with desire. This isn’t good at all. It’s worse than she thought, in fact.

“I’ll get drinks for everyone,” Teddy offers. “G for glasses? Or C for cups?”

“The cups are for tea or coffee,” Hugo volunteers, obviously thriving in his helper role. Teddy’s had dinner with them many times over the years, has even helped in the kitchen, but he’s never really explored the cabinets or pantry since she generally has the table set before she starts cooking. Tonight, she didn’t have time for the organizational bit prior to starting the food.

“Gotcha,” Teddy says, opening the cabinet with the glasses. “What’s it going to be tonight, young man? Milk or juice?”

“Apple juice. Please.”

“A very good choice.” Teddy opens the fridge and removes the bottle of apple juice. “Ah, a very fine year. Vintage, it seems.” He opens the top and makes a show of sniffing it, like it’s a fine bottle of wine. She hears Hugo giggling and has to smile when Teddy pours just a little into a glass and swishes it around before tasting it. He smacks his lips and nods. “Excellent bouquet of flavors, my good man.”

“There’s no flowers there, Teddy!” Hugo laughs. “I brought Mum a bouquet of flowers from my holiday, though! They’re on the table. I’ll show you!”

“Silly me. Of course there aren’t flowers here since it’s apple juice,” Teddy says, shaking his head and making his hair turn a bright shade of purple. “I’d love to see the flowers, but let me finish with the drinks first. Wouldn’t want Mum to punish me for not finishing my assignment.”

“She’d make you read a boring old book,” Hugo grumbles.

“That sounds like a good punishment to me,” Teddy says, winking at her when he catches her watching them. She blushes and rolls her eyes at him before she looks at the eggs. “Juice, Hermione?”

“Yes, please,” she says. She finishes the eggs, and then summons three plates so she can fill them. Hugo brings the basket of toast over for her, so she adds the slices to each plate.

“That looks good, Mum,” he tells her, grinning as he hugs her around the waist.

“So now you try to be charming and sweet, huh? Make fun of my alphabetizing until there’s food. I see how it is.”

Hugo giggles. “You’re silly, Mum.”

“So are you,” she declares, reaching down to tickle him before she swats his bum. “Go on and sit down. I’ll bring your plate.”

“I’ll help.” Teddy watches Hugo leave the kitchen and turn to go into the dining room before he moves quickly and pins Hermione against the cabinet. Without wasting time to speak, he lowers his head and brushes his lips against hers. She whimpers in surprise but parts her lips, flicking his tongue with hers as the kiss deepens. When he pulls back, she stares at him and runs her hand over her braid as she tries to calm down. “I’ve wanted to do that all week.”

“Yes,” she murmurs, glancing at the door to the kitchen and then at their plates. “Me too.”

Teddy moves his fingers along her jaw and cups her chin, tilting her head up until she looks at him. “Thank you for inviting me over tonight. I like being around you, even if a stolen kiss is all I can have.”

“I’m glad you were able to have dinner with us,” she says softly. She reaches up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “We should go on or Hugo will get restless.”

“He’s such a great kid,” Teddy says with a grin. “But, yes, we don’t want him to get restless.”

She levitates the plates in front of her and carries them to the dining room. Hugo smiles as they enter and begins to eat immediately. As they have dinner, Hugo tells Teddy all about his camping trip with Ron, from letting the fish go to sleeping late every morning. Teddy’s always been fantastic with the children, has been since he was a child himself, but she notices it more now as she watches him with a different view. No longer does she see him through a surrogate aunt’s eyes. Now, it’s through the eyes of a lover, which makes her more attuned to little things.

By the time they finish dinner, she’s relaxed and happy. She’s laughed quite a lot, from Teddy’s silly questions that make Hugo giggle to Hugo’s exaggerated stories of his fishing escapades. Clean up doesn’t take too long, since she used the same pan for frying several things, and soon they’ve put away the last of the clean plates.

“Is it time to work now?” Hugo asks.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she says, glancing at Teddy and smiling slightly before she refills her glass of juice. “We can review your research on the Bryant file tonight.”

“Sure,” Teddy says, obviously not caring what they do so long as he gets to stay longer. She shakes her head and laughs softly, which causes Hugo to look at her curiously.

“I’m going to work, too,” Hugo says earnestly. “I have owls to answer.”

“That you do,” she agrees, pleased that he’s progressed to a point where he actually wants to sit and write instead of having to be forced to try to learn. It helps that all of his cousins send him letters from Hogwarts every week, which is an idea that she had after they found out about his reading disorder. He prefers to read letters from his friends than a book, after all, and it motivates him to focus on his writing enough that he’s improved quite a lot in the last two years. With even more cousins and a sister at Hogwarts this year, though, he receives a ridiculous number of owls every week.

“I’ll go fetch them,” Hugo says, grinning as he races out of the kitchen towards the stairs.

As soon as they can hear Hugo running up the stairs, Teddy walks towards her. She moves and shakes her head. He stops and blinks at her, looking worried. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

“He’ll be back soon,” she points out. "We can't take the chance that we'll not hear him come down."

“I figured that it wouldn't take long, but I hoped we'd have time for a kiss.” Teddy sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, which is now a dark purple as he frowns in thought. “You were right.”

“About?”

“It’s difficult to be around you and wanting to touch, even just casually, but not being able to. More than I expected.”

“Yes, it is,” she agrees quietly. “And Hugo’s too young to notice the looks, which has given us a little more freedom than if we were around anyone else. We'll be found out in no time if we behave this way around others. And you can't use every opportunity to touch me, Teddy, even if it's just casually. We moved past casual days ago."

"I know. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't resist," he admits, smiling sheepishly. "But we'll be okay, Hermione. We both know how important it is to you that no one find out, so we'll just do what we have to do. We've always been friendly, at least, so no one will think anything about us teasing at times."

"But can we tease anymore without there being an underlying tension? I mean, in private situations that aren't so distinguishable as being at work." She sighs and tucks her hair behind her ear as she looks at him. "Teddy, it’s not an easy situation at all, and I fear it’ll just get tougher as time passes. ”

“It’s worth it, though,” he says seriously, staring into her eyes as he reaches out to touch her face. His fingers barely trace the curve of her cheek when they hear Hugo running back down the stairs. Teddy closes his eyes and bites his lip as he drops his hand and turns away from her. When he raises his head, he smiles wryly and the moment passes.

She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and carries her glass into the sitting room, where they can sit more comfortably while reviewing their files. Hugo is sitting on the floor with a stack of envelopes by his elbow and a tablet of paper in front of him. He looks up at her and smiles when she sits on the sofa near him. “I’ve got lots of work.”

“It looks like it. If you need any help, just ask.”

“Course I will,” he promises before he opens the first envelope and begins to slowly read. She glances at the handwriting and recognizes Victoire’s elegant loops covering the page. There’s a moment where everything feels surreal as she watches her son read a letter from her lover’s ex-girlfriend, and she can’t help but feel that this is terribly unfair of both her and Teddy. It’s selfish and wrong, regardless of how good it feels and the affection they feel for each other.

“Stop,” Teddy whispers softly as he sits next to her. He hands her a file and frowns at her. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but think about work instead of, uh, other stuff.”

“Right,” she says softly, taking the file and opening it. She watches Teddy put on his reading glasses and can’t help staring for longer than is polite. While she knows he has them, has even seen him wearing them at work on occasion, it’s not something she’s really _noticed_ until now. They look really good on him, and she shifts slightly as she realizes that there’s a good chance she’s just discovered something new that she finds arousing. Teddy in spectacles and his work clothes is unbelievably sexy.

“Do you have my notes in that file?” Teddy asks suddenly, leaning over to look at the file she’s holding on her lap. He murmurs very quietly, so as not to attract Hugo’s attention. “I want to word-that-I-couldn’t-say you so much right now that your staring isn’t helping.”

“Sorry,” she mutters softly, blushing at his accusation and the knowledge that he’s right. She just told him they couldn’t risk Hugo seeing anything non-friendly, yet she’s practically drooling while staring at him. It’s very unfair of her.

Teddy settles back and begins to review the case, biting the end of his Muggle ink pen as he focuses on work. For once, she’s unable to concentrate on work and is slightly annoyed that he’s not having trouble at all. Hugo is frowning at his paper as he carefully writes a reply to Victoire, and she can’t help but smile when she sees how he’s improved. She loves him dearly and worries about his disorder, not because she loves to read and thinks everyone should, but because it has him behind other children, since it took them years to figure out why he wasn’t reading and writing as well as he possibly should.

It’s probably foolish to feel guilty for not realizing he had a problem, but she does, especially when she remembers arguing with Ron about how Hugo just had a short attention span and wouldn’t sit to focus long enough to improve. Maybe she overcompensates now. She isn’t entirely sure when it comes down to it. She just knows that she’s so proud of him for every achievement he makes, whether it’s reading an entire letter without needing help or writing sentences on his own.

Hugo looks up and smiles at her. “You’re not working, Mum.”

“I am, too,” she defends, motioning to the open file. “I was just taking a break.”

“Okay then.” He seems to accept that answer and finishes his reply to Victoire before moving on to the next letter.

She watches him a little longer before she looks at her hand, watching Teddy’s fingers move over her palm before he squeezes gently. She glances at him, noticing that he’s leaning back comfortably, burnt orange hair falling across his forehead as he smiles at her. She returns his smile and moves her fingers over his hand. 

Teddy lets go and shifts, resting his arm on the back of the sofa in a casual way that also lets him play with bits of her hair that have escaped from her braid. She looks at Hugo before she relaxes against the sofa, flipping through the file as she focuses on work and just enjoys the comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of writing and turning pages.


	16. Exasperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a misunderstanding with Teddy, Hermione has lunch with friends

It’s probably a sign of old age when a man sleeps over and all that happens is _just_ sleeping.

At least, that’s what Hermione decides when she wakes up wearing her night clothes, and Teddy’s sleeping soundly beside her in his boxers. After Hugo went to bed, she and Teddy spent a little time snogging on the sofa before quietly sneaking into her bedroom. But they were really tired after a long day at the office and also working for several hours after dinner. Teddy offered to go home, when it became obvious that they both wanted more but were really too exhausted for things to progress any further, but when he suggested that he leave, she told him he could stay the night, so long as he left before Hugo woke up in the morning. He agreed, got undressed, and then, they slept.

After she wakes up, there’s no time for a morning quickie because she has to shower and get ready for work before getting Hugo up and dressed and fed before taking him to Molly’s. Once she wakes Teddy up, there is kissing but it’s too risky this time of day for him to stay, much less shower with her, no matter how tempting the idea. He Apparates from her bedroom, just in case Hugo’s already awake and might hear the Floo. When she arrives at the office, she’s frustrated for wanting things she didn’t have time and opportunity for, but she’s also ready to face a day of meetings and files to review with a break for lunch plans at noon.

Teddy arrives early, as usual, and they exchange wry smiles, both most likely thinking that they’re working too hard if they can’t even indulge in passionate shagging when they’re sharing a bed all night. He winks at her before sitting down and starting his research, which is her cue to focus and quit letting her mind drift to last night. There’s at least one positive in that they were able to see that he could sleep over without Hugo being affected. Besides, it’s nice sleeping with someone even if they’re just sleeping.

The morning passes quickly once it begins. She manages to settle two cases without enduring a trial and interviews a witness that will guarantee victory in one of Ogden’s cases, so it’s certainly a satisfactory start to the day. Shortly before noon, she goes back to her office and reviews her mail before calling Teddy in to give him the information she obtained during her questioning. If she looks at him longer than is appropriate, she blames it on a busy day and needing a moment of peaceful contemplation before thinking about lunch.

“You’re working too much this week,” Teddy says simply as he sits down across from her.

“It’s not too bad. At least I have time to breathe,” she says. “When I was an intern, there were some weeks when I honestly considered scheduling ‘breathe’ because I was so busy.”

“If you reach that point, I’ll make sure you find time to relax.”

She smiles. “While I’d be tempted to reach that point just to see you try, I can’t very well work that sort of schedule anymore. I have Hugo to consider, after all.”

“And yourself.”

“Right.” She shrugs. “I know what I can handle, but I have to balance more now that there isn’t just me to think about.”

“Balancing is good. But you’re still working too much this week.”

“It’s inappropriate for an intern to fuss over a boss’s work schedule,” she points out quietly.

“Intern. Gotcha,” he says, losing his easy smile as he opens his tablet and poises his pen against the paper. “What do you have for me, boss?”

“Teddy, don’t,” she mutters, sighing as she leans back in her chair.

“Lupin might be more appropriate. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking we’re too familiar.”

“Fine. I don’t have time to placate you for simply reminding you of reality,” she says sharply. “Here are two cases that are settled. You need to review the paperwork, copy it, send a set to the public archives and file the other. Once the files are ready, they go on Ogden’s desk for final approval.” She pushes the two cases across the desk towards him. “After you get those finished, I need you to transcribe this interview and mark any key information. I expect all three things to be done by the end of the day.”

“I didn’t ask for coddling. Forgive me for not knowing where the boundaries are anymore,” he murmurs quietly. “Before us, there wasn’t a problem with my being a friend and expressing concern. But now that things are different, I’m supposed to, what? Become a stranger because you’re scared someone might find out?”

“This isn’t the time or place for this discussion, Lupin. I never said you had to be a stranger, though, so do stop with the dramatics,” she tells him.

He stands up and reaches for the files. “I’m not being dramatic. I just want to know your expectations.”

She looks up at him and shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“Then how can you expect me to know?”

Before she can answer, there’s a knock on the open door. She looks over to see Ron standing there. “Is it already noon?” she asks. “Sorry, I just got back to the office and I’m giving Ted a few things to work on after lunch.”

“No problem,” Ron says with a smile. “I’m early.”

Teddy looks at Ron and smiles. “Afternoon, Ron.” When he looks back at her, he mouths ‘I’m sorry’. She nods slightly, and he smiles. “I’ll get started on these after lunch, boss.”

“I’ll see you when I get back, Teddy.“ As he leaves, she closes her file and gets her bag before she stands up. “Are we meeting Harry and Ginny at the pub or in Harry’s office?”

“We’re meeting Harry at the lift then meeting Ginny at the pub.” Ron walks out behind her and closes her office door before leading her into the hallway. “You look stressed. Busy day?”

“Busy week. Ogden’s caseload was more extensive than I realized, so it’s been hectic trying to cover most of them. Managed to get two settled this morning, though. That’s what I was giving Teddy to work on, actually.” She sees Harry down the hall by the lift and waves. “How’s your day been?”

“Boring. Up to my elbows in paperwork, which is the worst part of the job.” He raises his voice slightly as they reach Harry. “My boss is a madman who throws a fit if every 'i’ isn’t dotted.”

“Don’t forget crossing your ‘t’s,” Harry adds with a grin. He looks at her and arches a brow. “You look tired.”

“Nice to know,” she mutters, rolling her eyes at their inability to be polite. “That’s what you come up with after you’re called a madman?”

Harry shrugs. “Like I care what a lowly employee like Weasley says compared to the state of health of my best friend.”

“Ouch. That really hurt, mate.” Ron’s lip quivers and he sniffles. “Lowly? And since when is _she_ your best friend?” Fortunately, before he can embarrass them, the doors to the lift open. 

“Besides, coming from this git, madman is probably some demented compliment,” Harry adds with a wink before they step into the lift.

“For the record, I’m healthy and happy,” she says firmly, giving them both a look that indicates they’d better believe her or risk being hexed. “It’s just been a busy week, but it’s Friday, so I have all weekend to rest and relax.”

“Do you actually know the meaning of those words or do you just know to say them to get us off your back?” Harry asks curiously.

“Prat,” she says, elbowing his gut lightly.

“Just don’t work too hard,” Ron says seriously.

“I won’t,” she promises. Considering their definitions of ‘working hard’ are different, it’s not even a lie.

The walk to Finnigan’s doesn’t take long, and they soon arrive to find Ginny already waiting. On the way to the table, Seamus intercepts them. “Your lovely wife’s snagged the best table in the place,” he tells Harry. “And I plan to sit and pester you all later when I get a chance to take a break.” He smiles at Hermione. “And it’s nice seeing you again so soon, especially without work this time.”

“As if these two would let me get away with bringing work to lunch.” She smiles and follows Ron and Harry to where Ginny’s sitting.

“You shouldn’t work over lunch,” Ron tells her as soon as they’re seated.

“Hello, Ginny. Forgive the rudeness, but it seems this is one of those ‘lecture Hermione’ afternoons.”

“Stop nagging her,” Ginny warns, giving Ron and Harry one of her ‘I’ll so kick your arse’ looks.

“Why? She spent decades nagging us, so it’s only fair that we get to enjoy the experience now.” Harry smiles as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, what he said,” Ron adds.

“They have a point, Hermione,” Ginny says. She looks at her more closely and smiles. “You look happy. Is work going well?”

“Ha! See? Happy, not tired or awful,” Hermione points out smugly. She looks at Ginny and nods. “Work is going well, and I am quite happy right now.”

“What does she know? She’s just my sister,” Ron mutters, cursing under his breath as he reaches down to rub his leg. “Bloody hell, Gin. That was my leg.”

“Was it? Silly me. What do I know, though?” she asks, smiling sweetly before she winks at Hermione.

“Since I don’t fancy ending up with a bruise on my shin, I’ll just say that I’m glad you’re at least taking time to eat lunch, even if it’s with work,” Harry says.

“Coward,” Ron accuses.

“Smart,” Harry corrects.

Hermione shakes her head. “Men.”

“Can’t live with them, and can’t live without them,” Ginny mutters, rolling her eyes. 

“Actually, you can live without them. Logically, you can live without just about anything except oxygen, water, food and shelter,” Hermione muses. “However, the world would be rather dull without them, even if it’s just for amusement.”

“Oi! I think we’ve been insulted,” Ron says. “Not entirely sure, but she’s smirking, so I bet we were.”

“Did you know that the Cannons have a chance at the world cup this year?” Ginny asks.

“They do?” Ron looks at her and grins. “Really?”

“No, but it proves how gullible you are that you continually fall for that after thirteen years,” Ginny says with a mischievous grin.

Ron and Ginny start bickering as they read their menus, which gives Hermione a chance to decide what she wants for lunch. “I wonder if they’ll ever grow out of that?” Harry whispers, nodding towards the others.

She smiles. “Doubtful. Can’t you see them arguing about the Cannons when they’re both wrinkled and old?”

Harry laughs. “Sadly, yes, I can. I tell Ginny that she’s setting a bad example for the children but she seems to think it’s normal.”

“Maybe it is?” She shakes her head and pats his hand. “I guess the bickering is their way of knowing they love each other without having to get soppy and say it.”

“It must just be one of those odd things we only children will never understand,” he decides. “Seriously, though, how are you?”

“I’m really good,” she says. “Just like I was the other day when we had lunch.”

“Do we really nag?” he asks curiously. “We’re just concerned because we know how you can get with work.”

“Harry, that’s how I could get twelve years ago before I had children,” she points out. “Not even work rates ahead of them, so I have no intention of working myself to death, okay?”

“Good. I’d hate to have to get involved with dark magic to bring you back so I could kill you myself for leaving me,” Harry says with a grin. “And, as you so often say, we only nag because we love you.”

“What are you two whispering and giggling about over there?” Ginny asks.

“Harry’s threatening to kill me if I work myself to death,” Hermione says.

“You don’t sound too concerned,” Ron observes. He looks at her curiously before he goes back to reading his menu.

“I have no intention of testing his threat. Now, what’s everyone having for lunch? I’m starving,” she says, effectively distracting them by thoughts of food. She loves them all dearly and considers them family regardless of the fact that she’s no longer married to Ron, but there are times when they can get overwhelming. Maybe she’s still a little on edge after the misunderstanding with Teddy or frustrated from not having sex last night, but she’s definitely not as patient today as usual.

Once their focus is off the concern of her busier work schedule, she relaxes and enjoys the break from the day. During Ginny’s discussion of the Harpies and a new player, she lets her mind wander to Teddy and the awkwardness in her office. They both handled that poorly, she decides, and it’s something they need to talk about outside the office so they can figure out what the boundaries _are_ , so they’ll be on the same page. When Seamus joins them for a drink, the conversation takes a turn for the humorous as he tells them stories from the pub. It’s a fitting way to end lunch, and they‘re still laughing when they arrive back at the Ministry.

Caroline is at her desk when Hermione enters the office, and Teddy looks up from files to smile at her. “I have a meeting at two, but I’m in until then,” she tells Caroline.

“Yes, ma’am,” Caroline says, smiling as she goes back to typing.

When she walks into her office, she sits down and surveys her desk, prioritizing everything and deciding what needs her immediate attention. A knock on the door is followed by Teddy softly saying, “Boss, got a minute?”

“Maybe even two,” she says, glancing up at him. He’s carrying one of the files, which he hands to her.

“I just wanted to give this back to you, in case you had to review it,” he tells her.

“Thanks.” She’s about to put it on another stack when he bites his lip and glances out the door towards the main office before looking back at her. She arches a brow and frowns thoughtfully before she opens the file. On top is a slip of paper that simply says _Can I see you tomorrow?_

She picks up her pen and writes on it. _I’ll have Hugo._

He reads it and nods. “I think I caught everything in the interview. You might want to glance it over and let me know if there’s any details you’d like added,” he says as he writes beneath her words. _I know. Maybe I can take you both out or something?_

“It looks very thorough, Ted,” she says, rather pleased that she caught herself before she said Teddy. After she considers his question seriously, knowing it’s much different for him to hang out with her and Hugo on a weekend then to come over to work late, she tries not to be so bloody logical and goes with her instinct. She writes a reply and slides it over to him. _Yes._

“Oh, great.“ He grins and folds up the paper before sticking it in the pocket of his robe. He holds up five fingers and arches a brow.

She nods. “Everything seems to be in order. Thank you for getting that done so quickly.”

“My pleasure, Boss,” he says, winking as he goes back to his desk.

Once he’s gone, she sits back in her chair and takes a mental moment. There are far too many thoughts in her head right now, and she can’t dwell on any of them because she needs to focus and get ready for her next meeting. So, she concentrates and pushes everything to the side for now as she leans forward and studies her notes for her next meeting. There’s time to worry and think too much later.


	17. Recreation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy has a surprise for Hermione and Hugo

“Where are we going?”

“As I told you when you asked five minutes ago, I don’t know.”

“Wasn’t five minutes.”

“Hugo, you’ve been asking me repeatedly since you woke up. I didn’t know this morning, and I still don’t.”

“I’m just curious. You say curiosity is good cause it makes me want to learn things.”

“I notice that you actually listen when it suits you but, when it doesn’t, you never seem to remember anything that I say.“

“I’m talented like that.“

“Stop being so smug. Your face might freeze that way. And it’s good when I actually have the answer, not when it’s hearing the same thing over and over until I’m about to scream.”

“I don’t like when you scream. Your face turns red and you sound shrill.”

“Hence the reason you need to _stop_ asking me where we’re going.”

Hugo nods and flips through a Quidditch magazine that Rose left lying around during Easter break. “Why don’t you know?”

“What?” Hermione asks. He’s been this way all day, since she foolishly mentioned that Teddy was coming over and taking them out somewhere. From that moment on, it had been constant with the question of where they were going with intermittent comments about Teddy being smashing.

“You always know _everything_ , so why don’t you know? You don’t like surprises.”

“I don’t know everything. And, no, I’m not overly fond of surprises, but Teddy offered to take us out today, and it would have been rude to ask too many questions.”

“You always asks questions,” Hugo points out. “But maybe Teddy would have been mad if you asked too many and not taken us out, so I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“I do,” he says, grinning as he looks back at the magazine. He turns a few more pages before he looks at her sneakily. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, you!” She reaches for him and tickles his ribs, not caring that he’s nearly as tall as her already.

The sound of the Floo is barely distinguishable over Hugo’s laughter. When she looks up to find Teddy standing by the fireplace smiling at them, she lets Hugo go and blushes. Her hair has come lose from the ribbon she used to tie it back, and her face feels flushed.

“Teddy!” Hugo grins up at him. “Where are we going?”

“Please answer him,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I’ve had to hear that all morning.”

“Hello to you, too,” Teddy says with a laugh. “We’re going somewhere special that you probably haven’t been before.”

“Where?” Hugo asks.

Teddy looks at her and smiles. “I can see that he takes after you with disliking surprises.”

“I’m actually curious, too,” she says, pleased that he has to answer the questions now. She loves Hugo, but she really wonders if she was that pesky as a child. Unfortunately, she figures she was, which is why she’s usually patient until he reaches a certain point. She smiles sweetly at Teddy. “After all, we need to know if we’re dressed appropriately.”

“You’re dressed fine.” He looks her over in a way that makes her skin tingle. “Jeans and comfortable shoes are definitely a necessity.”

“Who cares about clothes?” Hugo groans. “I want to know where we’re going.”

“You’ll find out in about ten minutes,” Teddy promises, laughing when Hugo makes a face. His hair is turquoise, and he’s wearing faded denims and a long sleeve blue shirt that fits him well.

“Do we need to bring anything else?” she asks, knowing from experience now that he’ll be as stubborn as Hugo and refuse to tell them just to surprise them.

“I’ve already taken care of everything, I think,” he says, ruffling Hugo’s red hair before he removes a quill from his pocket. “We’re taking a Portkey. Hope that’s okay, but it’s the only way in and out.”

“A Portkey?” Hugo’s eyes widen. “I’ve never taken a Portkey before! Rose is going to be _so_ jealous when I tell her. I’ll write to her tonight!”

“Nice distraction technique, Lupin,” she murmurs as she walks over to Teddy.

“It looks like a quill,” Hugo complains. “Are you sure this is a Portkey? Maybe it’s a bad one.”

“It won’t activate until noon,” Teddy says, bumping Hermione’s hip with his casually as he leans closer to Hugo. “It’s just a plain old quill now, but, when it’s time, it’ll take us to…Oh, wait. I’m not telling where yet, am I?”

“How much longer do we have to wait?” Hugo asks, moving to a new question.

“According to the clock, six minutes.” Teddy nods towards it. “You can be in charge of time, Hugo. When it gets close to twelve, you have to tell me and your mum so we can hold the Portkey.”

“Okay!” Hugo likes that idea judging by the smile on his face. He stares at the clock intently before he sighs. “It’s going so slow.”

“It’s not too much longer,” Teddy says. He glances at Hermione and smiles. “How’s your morning been?”

“Full of repeated questions that I blame on you,” she says pointedly. “Would it kill you to just tell us without all the secrecy?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he says simply. “I think everyone needs surprises sometimes or life would get pretty dull. Besides, you don’t mind some secrets.”

She arches a brow and purses her lips before she nods once. “Point.”

“Only five more minutes,” Hugo announces as he holds the quill. He studies it suspiciously as if he’ll suddenly figure out how it’ll become a Portkey before he looks back at the clock. She smiles as she watches him alternate between the two.

“How has your morning been?” she asks Teddy.

“Busy. I had to get a few things together for our afternoon and stop by to see Gram for breakfast. She says hi, by the way, and that you need to come by for tea soon.”

“You told your grandmother you were seeing us today?” she asks quietly.

Teddy nods. “I don’t keep secrets from Gram. I mean, there are things I don’t tell her, of course, but spending the afternoon with you and Hugo isn’t one of those things.”

“Three minutes!” Hugo bounces on the heels of his feet and keeps staring at the clock, practically willing it to speed up.

“It’s been ages since I’ve had to take a Portkey somewhere. Where exactly are we going that requires admission in such a way? That’s usually only mandatory at secure areas, which I can’t see allowing permission for outsiders to visit.”

“It’s a secure area with a visitor policy. And that’s all you’ll get out of me before we go,” Teddy vows, waggling his eyebrows at her while Hugo’s attention is elsewhere.

“You love to torment me, don’t you?” she accuses, frowning in thought as she tries to think of more common places that would require such travel arrangements.

“You know it,” Teddy says, making the words sound very dirty to her ears even if they’re just normal.

“Oh! It’s almost time!” Hugo moves to her side and wraps an arm around her waist. “Is it scary to take a Portkey?” he whispers.

“It’s not much different than Apparating,” she whispers back. “Just hold on to my hand, and you’ll be fine.”

When Teddy holds the quill out in front of her, all three reach out and grip it. The sensation of traveling by Portkey is a rush, and she feels sick to her stomach when they suddenly arrive above a green hill. She keeps her grip on Hugo’s hand and eases them down to the ground, making a face when they land. “You all right?”

“That was bloody brilliant!”

“Language,” she scolds.

“Sorry,” Hugo mutters as he looks around. “We’re on a hill. Why are we on a hill?”

“We’re actually standing in the Yr Wyddfa Preserve,” Teddy says carefully, taking his time to pronounce the Welsh name. “That is, we’re in the Snowdonia National Park, but a private wizarding section that is unplottable and closed to the general public.”

“Really?” Hugo grins, suddenly not caring if it’s just a hill since Teddy makes it sound special.

“How are we here?” she asks. “I wasn’t even able to arrange a Portkey here when I worked for the Department of Magical Creatures.”

“I’m just that good,” Teddy says smugly. When she arches her brow, he laughs. “One of my mates from school that I've actually kept in touch with happens to work here, and I now owe him a huge favor, but we have permission to visit and look around, as long as we follow the rules.”

“I’m impressed, Ted,” she admits. “And rather disgruntled that I couldn’t visit when I wanted to work on projects just because I didn’t know the right people.”

“Is it just this hill?” Hugo asks, looking around curiously.

“It’s a protected area for several varieties of magical creatures and magical wildlife,” Teddy explains. “My mate, Dilwyn, has been working here since we left Hogwarts, so about two years, I guess. He’s supposed to have met us at noon, but it seems some things don’t change.”

“Watch your tongue, mate,” a voice calls out from behind them. Hermione turns to see a young man with black hair walking towards them. “Afternoon, ma’am, boy. Don’t yeh listen to anything this one says ‘bout me. I’m always on time.”

“I’m Hugo, not boy.”

“Are you now? I’ll have to remember that, won’t I?” He grins at Hermione. “And who might you be, ma’am?”

“She’s my Mum,” Hugo offers helpfully.

“Hermione,” she adds, reaching out to shake his hand. “Thank you for pulling strings and getting permission for us to visit. Teddy owes you quite a large favor for this, I’m sure. Do be sure he pays up.”

“I like yeh already,” Dilwyn announces. “Might wait on calling in that favor, though, so it’s worth more. You can call me Dil, and this is Yr Wyddfa. All of our area is protected from Muggles, though we do have some grounds where they’re allowed to walk cause we’ve got charms up to keep them from getting too nosy. What do you want to see first?”

“What have you got?” Hugo asks. “Besides this old hill.”

“Well, we’ve got a little of a lot,” Dilwyn says, which makes Hugo frown in thought. “Yeh like dragons? It's about feedin' time fer the greens, 'f you want to go watch.”

“Dragons? I love dragons. My uncle Charlie works with dragons. He’s not married cause Grandma says no self-respecting woman would tolerate him smelling like animals all the time, no matter how handsome he is. Course, I think he’s the one who don’t want a woman cause they’re nothing but trouble.”

“Hugo,” Hermione says, rolling her eyes when Teddy snorts. “Doesn’t, not don’t. And I doubt your grandmother intended for you to hear that, much less repeat it.” She doesn’t point out that Uncle Charlie isn’t likely to ever get married because he prefers being single and isn’t particularly interested in anything serious when there are new men and women working at the colony every year who are interested in flings.

"Uncle Charlie?" Dilwyn repeats slowly. "Charlie Weasley? Works in Romania? Small world. Spent a few months there training after I started working 'ere, actually. Learned a lot from him." He glances at Hermione and runs his fingers through his hair before he clears his throat. "So, dragons?"

“She shouldn’t have said it where I could hear if she didn’t want me repeating it,” Hugo says matter-of-factly. “Can we see dragons now?”

She arches a brow at Dilwyn's words and reaction to Charlie's name, but then Hugo starts to speak, so she doesn't have time to analyze it. At Hugo's remark, she has to shake her head.

“Can’t argue with his logic,” Teddy says, grinning when she glares at him. “What? Just saying.”

“Hmph.” She looks at Hugo and nods. “We can see the dragons, but I think it might be better to wait until after they eat. If I remember correctly, their food of choice is sheep.”

Hugo makes a face. “Eew.”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe we can just explore and see what we come across,” Teddy suggests.

“If you get lucky, yeh might catch sight of a porlock,” Dilwyn tells Hugo. “They’re fussy little creatures who don’t like us much at all, but they live around 'ere anyway.”

“What else do you have?” Hugo asks excitedly as he starts walking beside Dilwyn, listening with interest as they move ahead of her and Teddy.

“Dil will keep an eye on him,” Teddy murmurs once Hugo and Dilwyn have wandered off ahead of them. “He likes having an audience, especially one who asks as many questions as Hugo.”

“This is really a beautiful place,” she says, looking around and taking in the view. “A very good surprise, though don’t get smug.”

“What’s the fun in surprising you if I can’t be smug?” he asks, laughing as they start to follow after Dilwyn and Hugo, who are discussing pixies. “Seriously, I’m glad you like it here. I’ve been promising to come visit since he started working here, but I just haven’t taken the time. I’d much rather see it with you, anyway.”

“It’s a great choice. Hugo has a fascination with magical creatures and the outdoors, and you know my fondness.”

He reaches out and lightly squeezes her hand. “I’m glad you agreed,” he says. “I wasn’t sure where the line is, in terms of how much time I’m allowed to spend with you after work or whatever. I mean, are there rules?”

“There aren’t, but there probably should be,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand before letting it go. She watches Hugo laugh at a story Dilwyn is telling about dealing with pixies and smiles. “I don’t want to confuse Hugo or involve him in anything that isn’t serious. It’s not fair to him, you know?”

“What if I am serious, though?” he asks quietly. “It’s been two weeks, Hermione. The attraction is still there, worse than it was, and I love spending time with you, even when we’re being like an old couple who just sleep and work.”

“It’s too soon to know if this is serious or not, and I don’t want Hugo to have to deal with all those changes if it’s not going to amount to anything more than a temporary affair,” she whispers. “I know that sounds cruel and heartless, but you’re like a cousin to the children, and that makes it more complicated. I’m really trying, Teddy, but it’s just not that easy.”

“No, it isn’t,” he says, sighing as he runs his hand through his dark purple hair. “So, really, the only thing we can do is continue like we are until you decide it’s more than temporary and casual? At work, we keep the lines separate, and I can’t tease even a little for fear someone will somehow know we’re dating?”

“It’s not just my decision,” she points out softly, letting the others get far enough ahead that she and Teddy won’t be overheard at all. “Please don’t make it sound so selfish. You don’t need any complications if this doesn’t work out anymore than I do, after all. And you can be yourself at work, because we do have a personal connection through our friends and family, but we have to make sure there are boundaries that we don’t cross.”

He nods and makes a face. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like this is all your fault. I know it’s tough and that our history makes it even more complicated, but knowing it and actually being able to think it all the time are really two different things. It’s difficult to remind myself that I can do this and can’t do that, even if I do understand.”

“It’s not easy for me, either,” she says honestly. “However, it’s necessary if we continue exploring this relationship to see what does happen. You said that it‘s worth the risk, but that means it also has to be worth the trouble.”

“It is,” he says firmly. “There’s no doubt about that, even if I do slip up and make mistakes sometimes.”

“We’re just human, Teddy. We all make mistakes. This is new to both of us, and it’s very complex, too, which makes it more of a struggle. I still have my worries and fears, but I’m resolved to trying because I’m happier than I have been in awhile, so I can’t _not_ try now.”

“I’m happy, too,” he tells her, smiling as he reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “If we didn’t have two nosy people not too far away, I’d totally pull you against me and word-I-shouldn’t-even-think-right-now you until your toes curl.”

“If we didn’t have two nosy people not too far away, I’d let you,” she murmurs, glancing at his lips before she looks away at the sound of Hugo calling her name. They’ve reached an area crowded with trees, and Dilwyn is watching them curiously while Hugo bounces around like he’s had too much sugar.

They hurry to catch up, and she joins Hugo while Dilwyn walks over to talk to Teddy. “Look, Mum. It’s a bowtruckle,” Hugo says, pointing out at a creature on the tree. “Dil says they don’t normally get down round here, but there’s some in the trees around the preserve.”

“Really?” She smiles and peers at the creature. “Having fun?”

“Lots. Rose is going to be _so_ jealous when I tell her,” he says with a mischievous grin. He lowers his voice. “Don’t tell her but I asked Dil if we could come back with her this summer, cause it’s not fair I get to see all this and she can’t cause of boring old school, and he said we can. I just have to owl him myself cause we‘re mates now. Teddy has great friends.”

“That’s very nice of you to think of your sister,” she compliments, ruffling his hair because he’s at the age where he would be mortified if she attempted to hug him in public. “And nice of Dil, too.”

She glances back to see Teddy and Dilwyn talking quietly. Teddy’s hair is bright red, and he rolls his eyes when he sees her watching, making a funny face as Dil continues talking. She smiles and looks back at the tree, listening to Hugo repeat everything Dil has said about pixies and bowtruckles.

“I see you were listening well, Hugo,” Dilwyn announces as he and Teddy rejoin them. “Smart son yeh have 'ere, Hermione.”

“Yes, he is. He’s also very impressed by the preserve,” she says. “If you think feeding time is done, we can go on to the dragons now, I suppose.”

“Oh, yes. I like dragons,” Teddy says, bouncing on his heels in a way similar to Hugo that makes her bite her lip to keep from laughing. He sticks his tongue out at her when he notices. “It’s a man thing. You wouldn’t understand, would she, Hugo?”

“Nah, cause it’s a man thing,” Hugo agrees, puffing out his chest slightly.

“Well, I’ve actually ridden a dragon before, so there,” she says smugly, tossing her hair over her shoulder before she walks ahead of them to stand beside Dilwyn, who grins at her.

“She beat us,” Teddy announces with a dramatic sigh.

“Just cause she won’t let uncle Charlie take me or Rose up on a dragon until we’re grown,” Hugo mutters. “She says I have to be wrinkled and old before she’ll ever let me. But if I’m old, I won't wanna ride a dragon.”

“I expect the greens have finished their lunch by now. Why don’t we head on over to their area?” Dilwyn suggests. “And yeh just need to keep working on your ma, cause riding a dragon’s definitely something you should do before yeh got wrinkles.”

Hermione laughs and shakes her head. “No riding dragons until you’re older, Hugo. Just be glad I let you go up on a broom with someone. That’s enough worrying on my part for a few more years. Now, let‘s go see those dragons.”


	18. Elation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back home after spending the day at the Yr Wyddfa Preserve

After having a picnic lunch that Teddy brought with him, Dilwyn allows them a moment of rest to enjoy the view from the hill overlooking the lake. The moment isn’t long enough in Hermione’s opinion, but Hugo’s getting restless by this point, so she doesn’t protest continuing their tour. Dilwyn is an excellent guide, charming and knowledgeable in a way that makes him approachable, and it’s obvious he loves his job.

They finish the tour at sunset and stand in peaceful silence on a mountaintop as the sun fades into the horizon. It’s beautiful and makes her feel calm in a way she rarely experiences. For a brief time, all that the world consists of is nature, and things like work and complicated relationships are forgotten as she marvels at the air, sky, and creatures in this majestic place. When they’re left with a dark sky and more stars than she can count, she shakes her head slightly and focuses back on reality.

Dilwyn invites them to stay for dinner, which Hugo accepts without even asking. It’s obvious that he’s made a new friend, and she imagines she’ll hear about this trip for many days to come. Dinner at the preserve consists of whatever the cook decides to make that day, she learns as they arrive at the dining hall. 

There, they meet other employees and Hugo follows Dilwyn around to learn everyone’s names. She sits with Teddy, and they talk quietly until the others join them. Today the cook has made roast with mash and carrots. Her fears of what exactly might be lying around a kitchen somewhere like this are quickly dispelled as she enjoys one of the best meals she’s had in ages. 

Finally, it’s much later than she's realized, and it’s time to say their good-byes. Hugo promises to write Dilwyn and assures him they’ll be back with Rose this summer. She receives a book on the preserve accompanied by a cheeky grin from Dilwyn as he makes her promise to not let anyone who hasn’t been there read it. Once Teddy has finished talking with his mate, they take a Portkey back home, leaving Yr Wyddfa behind.

When they arrive home, she pulls her wand out of her pocket and lights the candles so they can see. While the house does have Muggle electricity, she prefers candlelight to the harsh electric lights, so they’re rarely used at all.

“That was smashing,” Hugo says. The large yawn that interrupts his words detracts from the excitement but it’s still obvious that he enjoyed himself.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Teddy grins and ruffles Hugo’s hair.

It’s proof of how tired Hugo is that he doesn’t make the usual face that follows such an action. She doubts it’s long at all before he’s whining and protesting whenever she does it, just like he no longer lets her hug him in public and refuses to be called ‘child’ despite only being eleven. “It was a wonderful day,” she says, smiling at Teddy as she walks over to Hugo. “A very long day, actually.”

“Can I take a bath tomorrow?” Hugo asks hopefully. “I’m _so_ sleepy that I might fall asleep and drown! You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” she says, watching him smile. “That’s why you can take a quick shower before bed.” The smile fades, and he looks like he’s considering a protest. “The time you spend arguing when you know I won’t change my mind could be spent in the shower getting it done.”

Hugo sighs and rolls his eyes. “I just took a bath last night. Don’t know why I have to be _that_ clean.”

“Because you smell like dragons and a dozen other animals,” she points out. “Besides, daily bathing isn’t a foreign concept to most people. Having this argument with me nearly every night certainly doesn’t persuade me to be lenient on occasion and allow a skip day.”

After a pause in which Hugo frowns in thought, he asks, “So if I don’t argue, you might let me skip sometime?”

“Possibly, though nothing is guaranteed.”

“It’s not fair that you say that, and I don’t know if that means yes or not,” Hugo mutters. “When Grandma says it, it always means yes. Same with Aunt Ginny. You never always mean yes.”

“That’s because it’s better not to be entirely predictable when you have clever children who aren’t afraid to take advantage of their knowledge of your behaviors.”

“She makes my head hurt when she talks with all those big words,” Hugo tells Teddy. “I think she means to do that cause she knows I’ll stop asking questions then.”

“She probably does. Women can be sneaky that way,” Teddy agrees, winking at Hermione when she purses her lips.

"Excuse me, but I do have to point out that it's _men_ who whine and rant in an effort to get their way, which is manipulative as well as obvious and lacking any subtlety at all," she says matter-of-factly.

"I don't whine," both Teddy and Hugo say in unison. Hermione snorts and rolls her eyes.

“I just hope Rose doesn’t get that way, or I might be in lots of trouble,” Hugo declares solemnly. “Living with two girls is tough.”

“I can imagine. Was tough enough for me with Gram,” Teddy says. “And your mum is frowning, so you’d best get upstairs and into the shower before she starts turning pink.”

Hugo sighs and then smiles. “It really was a great day!” He walks over and hugs Hermione, glancing at Teddy, who suddenly finds the shelf of photographs interesting. When he’s not watching, Hugo kisses her cheek and whispers, “I love you, Mum. Night.” He looks at Teddy. “Night, Teddy! Thanks for taking us to see Dil.”

“Night. Sweet dreams,” she says, kissing his forehead before he goes upstairs. Even though it’s been a few years since he’s needed her to prepare the bath and read him a bedtime story, she still feels wistful at bedtime for the time when he was younger. Pretty soon, he’ll be off at school, and she’ll be alone with an empty house that’ll be so silent it drives her crazy. He won’t need her anymore, nor will Rose, and she feels selfish for wishing they could just stay this age for a few more years until she’s ready for them to grow up.

“You okay?” Teddy asks softly.

She smiles wryly and looks at him. “I’m fine. Just having a maternal moment,” she admits. “He’s getting so big and growing so fast that it catches me off-guard sometimes.”

“He’s a great kid,” he says. “You and Ron have done an amazing job with him and Rose.”

“They’re the best things we’ve ever done,” she agrees. “No matter how many promotions we receive or court victories I get, they'll never equal the accomplishment of having those two children.”

He reaches out and brushes her hair back from her face. “Are you tired, too? Or do you feel up to having company for awhile?”

“I am a little tired, but not so much that I need to sleep right now. Would you like a nightcap? I’m still full from that dinner, but I think there’s a bottle of wine somewhere.”

“We don’t need wine. Juice is fine. And, by the way, that’s me saying yes to whatever you want tonight.”

“Noted.”

“That’s it? I offer myself up without restriction, and you just smirk?”

She considers it a moment and nods. “Yes, that sounds about right.”

“Evil woman,” he accuses, shaking his head as he smiles. “I’m tired, too, but not _that_ tired. Course, if you insist, we can lie down to rest. On the sofa or, um, well. He’s in the shower, so it looks like it’s sitting on the sofa with enough distance between us to not look suspicious should he come back downstairs.”

“That’s a good plan,” she murmurs, wishing his hair hadn’t gone from turquoise to dark purple when he realized their restrictions. She isn’t exactly sure what that color means, either, but it’s usually a more serious mood, so she’s always a little concerned when she notices it. “I’ll go get drinks if you’d like to turn on the wireless. Or, wait. What time is it? If it’s after nine, Lee will have that ridiculous ‘Late Night Love Songs’ program on his station.”

“It’s after nine, but I don’t mind soppy songs,” Teddy says. “I mean, I am the bloke who reads romance novels. Speaking of, what are your thoughts on 'Pirate's Wench' or have you not had time to start reading yet?”

“Oh, right. You do like those things. And, no, I haven't had time to read it yet. Well, you might not mind, but I’m not a particular fan, especially when he’s in a retro mood while arranging the programming. Most of those songs were awful when I was your age, and time certainly hasn’t improved them.”

“You know, instead of feeling really bloody awkward at being the more girly of this relationship, my manhood isn’t threatened at all because we balance, in an odd twisted way that suits us,” he muses as he walks over to the entertainment area. “How about I just put on a music disc? You have Delphinia Warbeck’s newest, and it’s brilliant.”

“Isn’t it?” She smiles. “I can’t stand her grandmother’s music usually, but Delphinia has such a raw and sultry sound. Reminds me of Muggle artists my grandparents used to listen to when I was younger.”

“That’s settled then. And I’ll be sure to tell George to let Jordan know that the soppy romance songs on Saturday nights should be replaced with new programming.” He laughs and fiddles with the player while she goes down the hall to the kitchen.

She’s reaching for glasses when she feels him come up behind her. The fact that she can sense him, even before she smells him, is something she decides not to think about right now because it’s just not the time. She can distantly hear the sound of Warbeck from the sitting room down the hall, and she isn’t surprised when she feels Teddy’s hand on her ribs.

“The shower stopped after you left,” he whispers, moving his fingers up and down her side as he rubs her shirt against her skin. “Then I heard the door to his bedroom close.”

“It’s too dangerous, Teddy,” she says softly, gripping the shelf without touching the glasses. “It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep, but he could easily decide he wants a drink of milk before bed.”

“After the workout that Dil gave us today, I doubt Hugo will do more than collapse into a well-earned sleep.” He moves his hand higher, his fingers barely brushing against the underside of her breast. “And it’s Ted.”

“Ted, stop,” she moans, not sounding at all threatening when he’s touching her this way. He presses against her back and rests his chin on the top of her head, which she should find annoying. Instead, she focuses on the feel of his hand on her breast and tries to figure out what he intends to do with his other hand.

“I don’t wanna,” he whines before he leans down and kisses her neck. She can feel his chapped lips through her hair and then he finally moves his other hand. She bites her lip when she feels it on her belly, teasing with the hem of her shirt before his fingers touch her bare skin.

“God, you‘re infuriating,” she whispers, pushing back against him so she can turn. She reaches up and moves her fingers into his green hair as she pulls his head down and kisses him. He moves his hand behind her, gripping her bum as he presses closer. He’s not fully erect yet, but she can feel his bulge against her belly as he rolls his hips forward. She parts her lips and nips at his lips, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth as she moves her hand behind him and beneath his shirt. She lightly scratches his back in the spot she’s learned is sensitive, and is rewarded with a low groan before he deepens the kiss.

It’s been too long without kissing him. It’s best not to analyze the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since they last kissed. One kiss becomes another as they lean against the cabinet, touching everywhere they can reach. A loud thump from above startles her, and she accidentally bites down before she can pull back. Teddy pulls back, and she cringes. “It fine,” he says, his tongue obviously bitten despite his best efforts.

“I have to go check on Hugo,” she tells him, straightening her shirt and bra as she hurries out of the kitchen. She feels terrible, and calls over her shoulder, “Sorry.”

When she gets upstairs, she’s breathing hard and her arousal has been replaced with concern. She opens Hugo’s door and finds the lights off. She lights her wand and sees him sitting on his bed, looking guilty. His hair is wet, which means its curlier than usual, and he flashes a sleepy smile. “Hello, Mum.”

“Don’t you ‘hello, mum’ me,” she says. “What was that crash?”

“Nothin’,” he drawls, blue eyes blinking up at her as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“Try again.”

He yawns and lies down. “I was trying to fly like the dragons we saw,” he admits. “You angry?”

“You were trying to fly?” she repeats slowly.

“With my blanket like wings, but it didn’t work so well.”

“No, I imagine it didn’t,” she says, shaking her head.

“I’m sleepy,” he murmurs. “Just had to try cause I got the idea and couldn’t sleep until I did. Figured it wouldn't go so well, but I didn't expect the loud crash. Got caught, didn't I?”

"You definitely got caught." She wants to be annoyed with him, but she can’t fault his logic. After all, how many times during her childhood did she have similar thoughts? “Just be careful and keep flying for daylight hours in your room only,” she says.

“Of course,” he says. “I’m not _stupid_ , Mum.”

“No, you aren’t,” she agrees, walking over to tuck him in. When he gives her his increasingly common ‘oh, mum’ look, she arches a brow. "Don't give me that look; I was worried and ran upstairs to look in on you, so I've earned the right to tuck you in."

“Didn’t mean to make you worry,” he mutters, allowing her to tuck him in and kiss his cheek. “Is Teddy still here? If so, tell him sorry for flying so late.”

“Just get some sleep now. You’ve had an active day,” she says, smiling as she leaves his room and closes the door. When she heads downstairs, she prepares herself to find Teddy gone. After all, she bit his tongue and rushed away, probably leaving him bleeding or in pain. 

Instead of finding an empty house, she sees him sitting on the sofa with two glasses of juice on the table in front of him. He’s sticking his tongue out and wiggling the end in a way that makes her have to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“Ou hurt ma tongue,” he tells her, turning to look at her as he tries to glare. “Kiss it bettah?”

She snorts. “Nice try, Lupin,” she says, crossing the room to sit beside him. “Is it really bad?”

He shrugs. “It fine. Huo otay?”

“He was trying to fly like the dragons, using his blanket as wings.” She leans forward and kisses the tip of his tongue as she moves her fingers into his hair. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs as he reaches for the glasses. He hands her one and then moves his arm around her shoulders.

The juice is refreshing, and she sips it as she leans against him and listens to the sounds of his heartbeat and the music. She doesn’t try talking, knowing from experience it’ll be a few minutes before he’s able to speak normally. When he starts to rub her arm with his hand, she smiles. “Feeling more normal now?”

“A little, though I might need more kisses to make sure it’s better,” he suggests. “So, he was trying to fly?”

“Yes. I swear, he can get these insane ideas sometimes and just won’t calm down until he tries. What’s even worse is that I can’t even scold him too much without being a hypocrite since I was the same way at his age.”

“What do you mean at his age? You still get crazy ideas and have to try them, they’re just much less dangerous and more work focused now.”

“And, sometimes, they’re still risky and complicated,” she murmurs, looking up at him. “I know I’ve said it before, but today was really amazing. It was an excellent idea, and Dilwyn is lovely.”

“Yeah, he’s one of the few blokes from school that I keep in touch with, even if it’s via owl instead of in person. I’m just really glad that the idea occurred to me, because it was a great day. Plus, you got to meet one of my only friends.”

She smiles. “What was he whispering at you about?”

“Whispering?”

“When we left the hill?”

“Oh, right. Um, well, see, it’s embarrassing, which means I’m not likely to repeat it. Especially when I could remind you where we left off earlier.”

“I had a feeling it might be,” she admits. At his curious look, she moves her fingers through his burnt orange locks. “Your hair was bright red.”

“Bugger,” he mutters. “I’m usually much better at controlling it, but I tend to just relax with you and not bother. You’re going to be all stubborn and refuse more kisses until I tell you, aren’t you?”

“I would never force you to talk about something embarrassing, Teddy,” she says softly. She looks at him seriously. “I respect you too much for that sort of game playing, though it isn‘t something I indulge in anyway.”

“I know. I didn’t mean---” He sighs and kisses her soundly before he says, “He was teasing me about a crush I had on you years ago, complete with singing this ridiculous song he made up at the time regarding you, me, snogging, and a tree. He realized who you were when you introduced yourself, and the bloody git couldn’t let the opportunity pass without telling me that I was behaving like a lovestruck puppy and being too obvious.”

“Did he---”

“No,” he says firmly. “I laughed it off, took the teasing, and he thinks it’s a past crush.”

“How did you know what I was going to ask? Am I that predictable?”

“Not at all, but I know you want it to be secret, so I figured that was what you were worried about. Even if Dilwyn suspected something, he’s not the type to tell anyone. He’s one of those quiet loner types that the girls all seem to find so sexy. Too bad for them that he’s into boys.”

Well, that answers her suspicions about Dilwyn _knowing_ Charlie, since she doubts he’d have ever been able to resist someone as nice looking and likeable as Dilwyn. She doesn’t mention that, of course, because Charlie’s personal life isn’t hers to discuss. Instead, she smiles and kisses Teddy slowly and thoroughly, not in a hurry now that Hugo should be asleep and they have all night. When she pulls back, she asks, “Will you stay over tonight?”

“God, yes,” he says softly, tracing her lips with his thumb. “That’s something you don’t even have to ask, you know?”

“What if I like asking, to make sure?”

“You can ask anytime then.”

“Good.” She kisses him again before she rests her head on his shoulder. It’s been a wonderful day, and the evening is going well, too. She has juice, good music, and Teddy, so she’s happy until it’s time to go upstairs and finish what they started in the kitchen earlier.


	19. Appreciation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione & Teddy go upstairs

When Delphinia Warbeck’s music disc stops playing, it seems to be a good time to suggest moving upstairs. It’s been comfortable sitting against Teddy while listening to the music, but Hermione’s rested from the day and ready to continue what was interrupted earlier. She puts her glass on the table and looks at Teddy with what she hopes is a seductive ‘come hither’ expression, only to find his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open. That certainly explains the recent silence that she thought was just a peaceful moment.

"'Oh, you'll never keep up with me because I'm twenty years old and always horny,'" she mutters, mimicking Teddy as she gets to her feet. She frowns back at him. "My arse." She’s almost twice his age and feels energetic enough to have a spot of fun before sleeping. For a minute, she wonders if he’s faking it. It’s not beneath him to play in such a way, after all. But his breathing is even and the open mouth isn’t attractive in the slightest, so it’s obviously real. She shakes her head and picks up their glasses before stalking into the kitchen.

It’s the first night in a week that they’ve been able to find time for sex. Hugo’s sleeping, and they know it’s safe enough for Teddy to sleep over as long as he leaves early in the morning. Not even an hour ago, he practically took her right against the kitchen counter! Now, he’s napping like some old man. She understands being tired during the week after a busy day at work, but it’s the weekend and it isn’t even that late.

After she washes the dishes and puts them away, she sighs and wonders what she should do. Does she give him a blanket and let him sleep on the sofa? Or does she behave selfishly and wake him up so they can have sex? It’s his fault she’s aroused, so it really isn’t unfair to wake him, is it? If he hadn’t snogged her in the kitchen earlier, she wouldn’t be so bloody ready to be physical tonight. 

That argument sounds weak even in her mind.

“Should have woken me instead of abusing your dish towel.”

“I’m not abusing the towel,” she defends, glancing at the doorway to see Teddy leaning against the wall. At his pointed look, she glares and uncurls the towel from where she’s twisted it into knots while thinking.

“Would you believe that I was napping to reserve my strength for our unfinished business?” he asks hopefully, running his fingers through his orange hair.

“Any sentence that begins with ‘would you believe’ is generally something that I _wouldn’t_ believe.”

“Point.”

She leans against the counter and looks him over slowly. “Still sleepy? If you prefer, I can get you a blanket so you can sleep on the sofa, since you seemed quite comfortable there.”

“I see how it is now. A bloke takes a short nap and suddenly it’s the sofa for him,” he mutters. “You’re a tough woman, Hermione.”

“Yes, but you knew this before you ever asked me to dinner.”

“I wonder if I have masochistic tendencies.”

“Sounds like something you need to discuss with a professional.”

“Nah. A professional would just decide I need help, and I’d much rather have you instead.”

“Now I _know_ you need help.”

“The only help that I need right now is deciding whether I can wait until we’re upstairs before kissing you.”

“Who says you have to choose? Really, Lupin, you’re not very clever sometimes, are you?”

“If I was, I’d have probably have been in Ravenclaw,” he says simply. He pushes off from where he‘s leaning and walks towards her. “Thing is, I don’t mind not being clever all the time. Sometimes, you have to be foolish or the world would probably get pretty dull. Besides, being constantly clever requires far more work than I like. Just too lazy.”

“So, you equate being foolish with excitement? That’s a rather twisted opinion,” she says thoughtfully, watching him walk closer. “I happen to not mind the fact that I’m rarely foolish, and my life isn’t very dull, especially recently.”

“Ah, but that’s because you have me now, and I’m your something foolish,” he tells her as he reaches out to touch her hair. It’s an odd habit of his, tucking her hair behind her ear, but she likes it more than she cares to admit. She also likes the way he bites his plump bottom lip when he’s trying to decide if she’s amenable to a kiss.

Since he’s standing in front of her now, she isn’t sure if their silly debate is worth thinking up a reply when she could be kissing him instead. The fact that she actually feels at ease enough to make such a move with Teddy tells her that she’s becoming more used to this, complications or not. The number of times they’ve been intimate can be counted on one hand, so it’s not familiarity that makes her so relaxed around him. It’s just him, in some odd way she hasn’t been able to figure out yet despite making a list.

“Are you going to kiss me or just think about it all night?” she asks curiously.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to kiss me.”

“Maybe so.” At that, she leans up and brushes his lips with hers. He sighs and moves his fingers into her hair, pulling it free from the ribbon as he presses his lips more firmly against hers. Perhaps there is some truth to his claim of a nap revitalizing him, because he kisses her passionately as his free hand moves along her back, touching everywhere he can reach.

When she feels the counter behind her back, she pulls away from the intense kiss. Before she can say anything, he nods. “Upstairs. Yeah, I know.”

While the idea of shagging in the kitchen is rather exciting in a daring kind of way, it’s not practical at all. Hugo isn’t likely to enter her room unless he’s had a nightmare, which is so rare that she can’t remember the last time, but he very well might wake and want something to drink in the middle of the night. With children around, the number of places where you can actually have sex becomes minimal, at best, even with muffling charms.

Teddy kisses her again while she’s thinking, and then murmurs, “One day, I’m going to shag you on the sofa and right here against the counter.”

“Not on the same day, I hope. I daresay my back couldn’t handle such unusual locations twice in a few hours.”

“You know, you have this adorable way of making logic appealing, even if it ruins my attempts at being sexy.”

“You consider a discussion of locations sexy? Really, Teddy, we need to broaden your mind a little.”

“Not the locations themselves, Hermione. But what I’d like to do with you in them, yeah. It’s arousing.” He waggles his eyebrows and leers playfully. “However, feel free to broaden my mind anytime.”

“You’re definitely the foolish in my life.”

He laughs and kisses her once more before he takes her hand. “Lets go upstairs so I can show you some of those ideas.”

After they put out the candles, they quietly make their way to her bedroom. It’s ridiculous to be sneaking around her own house like she’s back at school and out after curfew, but it’s necessary. While Hugo’s a deep sleeper, there’s always a chance he’ll hear something and wake up. In a few weeks when Rose gets home, it’s going to be nearly impossible because she sleeps like Hermione, which isn’t very deep at all.

A few weeks. Will this affair still be happening then? If so, it’ll have been over a month, which would signify it very well might be more than a passing fancy. It’s difficult not to think about what will happen if they reach the point where they acknowledge it’s worth the risk to become steady and public.

They reach her bedroom, and she casts a muffling charm once she closes the door. She still plans to be quiet because the thought of having sex with Hugo just down the hall is oddly terrifying, which is ridiculous considering she and Ron never had problems doing so over the years. This is different, though, so she’s trying to be extra cautious.

“Charms are up,” she whispers, watching Teddy sit so he can take off his boots. He looks up at her, hair falling across his forehead, and frowns.

“Why are you whispering if the charms are up?” he whispers back.

“Well, because.”

He arches a brow. “Because what?”

“What if they don’t work?” she asks, kicking off her trainers before she leans against the door so she can remove her socks.

“Have you ever cast a relatively simple charm that hasn’t worked?”

“That’s not the point. This could be a first time, so I’m whispering.”

“Do I have to whisper, too?”

“I don’t know.”

“The whispering is kind of hot. Your voice is all breathless and husky.”

“You’re such a man.”

“I’ve noticed that you seem to always say that whenever you agree with something risqué but don’t want to admit to it.”

“Do I?”

“None of that. There won’t be any distractions with those questions of yours. You know you do it or else you’d have denied it. I’d much rather kiss you than discuss your quirks.”

“Yes, well, any discussion of my quirks would then lead to one of yours, and we’d spend most the night listing those.”

“Very funny,” he drawls, standing up and walking towards her. He speaks quietly, which makes his tone low and rasping in a way that makes her pulse race. Based on his slow smirk, he obviously notices her reaction. “Yeah, there’s something to be said for this whispering.”

“Insufferable,” she murmurs right before his lips press against hers. Now that they’re safe in her bedroom, she’s able to relax and enjoy it without the nagging fear that Hugo will wander in for a glass of milk. She curls her fingers around his hair and tugs as she parts her lips. The kiss deepens as they stumble towards the bed, falling together onto the mattress. They laugh before they continue kissing and start touching.

They fumble with zips and shift around as they undress. It isn’t the best way to remove their clothes, by any means, but it’s been a week since they were able to do this, so neither of them is feeling particularly slow or patient. When they’re finally naked and clothes are strewn all over the floor, she pushes him onto his back and smiles down at him. “You make me ignore the urge to get out of bed and pick up our clothes.”

“Do I?” He grins and runs his hand along her spine down to the curve of her bum. “That’s an amazing compliment. I think I should preen now.”

Before he can start gloating, she kisses him and straddles him. She rubs her breasts against his chest and moans, loving the sensation of her nipples sliding along his damp skin. He moves his hand along her hip and between her legs, stroking her with his fingers as they kiss. She can feel his erection against the inside of her thigh, throbbing as he moves beneath her. They haven’t been in this position before, so it takes time to find the right arrangement to suit them. It’s actually her favorite, so she’s pleased at having the opportunity to be on top tonight.

The hesitancy that often accompanied Teddy’s actions the first few times they were intimate isn’t quite as obvious tonight. She’s glad he’s getting more confident and comfortable being sexual, because it makes it more enjoyable to just let go and not worry about offending him or having to teach him something new. She likes the teaching more than she probably should, of course, but it’s nice to not have to think tonight. He arouses her so easily, just from a touch and a kiss, and she’s not even inclined to slow down and focus on foreplay this time. Next time, they can take their time and explore.

Teddy’s fingers feel good, and she starts to roll her hips as she rides them. She needs the preparation, though she's already wet and aroused. He touches her the way he knows she likes, and it isn't long before she's moving faster. When she feels his thumb rub her clit, she nips at his lip. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come before we even start.”

“Is that a promise or a warning?” he murmurs, pressing his thumb down more firmly.

“I love this shade of green.” She moves her fingers through his hair as he moves his fingers deeper inside her. She can feel his erection bump against her bum when she shifts, so she reaches down to grip his wrist. “Enough. I want you to be inside me when I do.”

Teddy pulls his fingers out of her and drags them along her torso until he caresses her breast. She can feel her arousal sticking to her skin as he tweaks her nipple and bucks up to brush his cock against her wetness. “I want to be inside you,” he whispers, watching her face as she shifts so she can touch him.

Once she has her fingers wrapped around his erection, she wiggles her hips and smiles as she lowers herself. He stares at her and drops his gaze down to watch, seemingly unsure where to focus his attention. Their bits win the debate. He watches intently as she begins to move up and down slowly, taking more of him into her each time.

“Fuck,” he mutters, licking his lips as he tightens his grip on her breast. “That’s just so…fuck.”

“Yeah,” she agrees softly, watching his face because she really doesn’t find their bits that attractive. On a bad day, she’d go so far as to admit she finds them rather ugly. However, the sensations they cause make up for any lack of aesthetic beauty. Teddy seems fascinated, though, and she likes seeing his face change as he stares at their joined parts.

He looks up to find her staring at him and blushes faintly before he leans up to kiss her. She starts to move, riding him slowly at first until she adjusts and they figure out their rhythm. He begins to thrust up, obviously realizing he can actually participate instead of just lying there while she does all the work. Such a clever boy, she thinks idly before she focuses on the feeling of him entering her more deeply than before. 

The angle is perfect, rubbing her spot every time she pushes down, and it doesn’t take her long before a familiar feeling begins to spread over her. She was already so close and this position rarely fails to get her off, so she isn’t too surprised when she tenses and tightens around him. She shudders as she comes, whining softly as he holds her against him while she finds release. He keeps moving, thrusting harder and faster as he grips her hips and pulls her down with more force.

Finally, he arches off the bed and grunts as he trembles beneath her. He spills inside her while she keeps moving, enjoying the moment as she looks at his face while he comes. She wonders if she should be embarrassed that it took so little time to have an orgasm, especially since she actually came before him this time, but they’re well past embarrassment during sex. Besides, it would be silly to worry about such things. Instead, she feels excited and sated, as well as sticky and damp.

“I love that position,” he murmurs, grinning up at her before he kisses her. When he pulls back, he lies his head against her pillow. “You should always be on top. I get to watch your tits bounce and it feels bloody amazing when you’re squeezing and rubbing and, yeah. Definitely good.”

“It’s probably my favorite,” she admits. “I like having a little more control and being able to move more. There are other positions I enjoy, too, of course, but this one is rather brilliant.”

He blinks up at her and asks, “What other positions? And can I just say how much I love that we can have mind-blowing great sex and talk about it after without stupid awkwardness or uncomfortable silence?”

“I like that, too,” she says. “As for other positions, I have no intention of discussing those at this moment.”

“’At this moment’ isn’t a definite ‘no, I’ll never tell’,” he points out. “Which means you’ll tell me eventually. I’d offer to do the same, but my experience consists of the basic standard one and what we did tonight, which isn’t much for comparison.”

“I don’t mind telling you sometime, Ted. It’s not something I mind discussing. Just not tonight.” She shifts and slowly eases off of him. She makes a face when she feels sticky release on her thighs, which makes him laugh softly.

“Go clean up. I know you probably need to use the toilet and want to wash up,” he says. He leans up on his elbows to kiss her thoroughly.

“Thanks,” she murmurs when the kiss ends. “For the kiss, and for understanding my desire to wash up.” She slides off the bed and walks to the bathroom. When she reaches the door, he calls her name. She glances at him and sees him grinning, sprawled out naked on her covers with his turquoise hair standing in several different directions from where she ran her fingers through it.

“You know, those charms of yours work really well.” At her curious look, his smile becomes mischievous. “After all, Hugo didn’t come running into the room to save you when you were making all those amazing moans and whimpers without worrying about whispering.”

“I’m really surprised you could hear them over all the noise you were making,” she says primly, smirking as she enters the bathroom and shuts the door before he can get the last word.


	20. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Sunday, Hermione & Hugo have visitors

The problem with spending most of Saturday having fun is that it means Sunday is busier than usual with all the weekly chores that are normally spread more evenly between the two weekend days. Hermione did manage to get the laundry done yesterday before Teddy arrived, but there’s still a lot to get done before she can relax. The day starts off wonderfully, though, with a shared shower before Teddy Apparates back home. Hugo is in good spirits when he wakes up, which means she has willing help dusting and mopping the floors. She saves the supermarket for early afternoon, so she and Hugo can eat lunch out together before doing the shopping.

It’s the private moments that she spends with her children that help shape their lives, as well as hers. It’s also her being selfish in that she wants to enjoy these times before they get older and lose interest in spending time with a parent. There will be friends and sports and many other things that eventually fill their lives. She’s not foolish enough to think otherwise. She just hopes they’re happy, because she’ll be willing to accept that they’ve grown up so long as they are.

When they get home with their groceries, Hugo helps her put things away. He’s still talking about Dil and the preserve, and even asks if Flourish & Blotts would have books on the creatures he saw. Once she moves past her delight, and slight astonishment, at him willingly suggesting they go to the bookstore, she tells him it’s very likely they have an entire section. With his eyes wide, he listens to her tell him about Hogwarts and various topics covered in Care of Magical Creatures while they finish putting away groceries.

“I think Dil explains things better than Hagrid,” he says during a lull in conversation. “I can’t understand him too well.”

“Well, Hagrid is a good professor, even if he is unique.”

“Wish Dil taught that class. It would be brilliant.” He grins. “I need to write him today, to thank him for showing us around. I can send him one of those cards you make us send out after birthdays and Christmas. Can send Teddy one, too, cause it was his idea.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea.”

Before Hugo can reply, they hear the Floo activate. They aren’t expecting anyone, which makes her reach for her wand. Their Floo isn’t open to just anyone, so it’s likely to be family, their significant others or a close friend, but one can never be too safe. Hugo rushes ahead of her but she catches him before he can enter the sitting room. She glares slightly and shakes her head before she proceeds into the room ahead of him. 

Ron is standing by the fireplace dusting soot off his clothes. Beside him is his girlfriend. It's still a little odd to have her ex-husband's girlfriend in the house, but it happened gradually, and it was only recently that Demelza was given access to enter through the Floo, which was actually Hermione's idea. Mel is a tall blonde that she can still remember tutoring in Transfiguration during her third year. However, when she acted as tutor, the girl was a scrawny first year who looked up to her as an older student. Now, Hermione’s the one who has to look up to Demelza, literally. Fortunately, they've become casual friends over the months, so these visits aren't uncomfortable.

“Daddy!” Hugo moves past her and hesitates when he reaches Ron, obviously trying to decide if he wants a hug or not.

“If you don’t hug me, I fear I’ll start to cry. You don’t want me to cry in front of Mel, do you?” Ron asks.

Mel snorts and rolls her eyes. “I think you ruined your macho image when you shed tears after the Cannons lost their chance at going to the World Cup last season, Weasley.”

“Nah, I just had something in my eye then,” Ron says with a smirk. He picks up Hugo without difficulty, which annoys Hermione because he’s far too tall and heavy for her to pick up anymore.

“Good afternoon, Hermione,” Mel says, stepping forward to hold out her hand. “I hope this isn’t a bad time. I suggested that we owl, but he seems to be suffering from a hearing problem in his old age.”

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s nice to see you, Mel, even if it is an unexpected visit.” She shakes Mel’s hand and looks at Ron curiously. 

Since their divorce, he makes an effort not to drop by unannounced or make things uncomfortable by forgetting he no longer calls this house home. Since starting to date Demelza, he’s been even better about letting her know when he’s coming over, since he often has Mel with him on his days off. Despite an initial reaction that could certainly be classified as ‘poor’ when she found out Ron had moved on and was interested in someone else, she adjusted and has tried to be friendly with Mel, even if it's unlikely they'll ever be the best of friends.

“We just got back from having lunch out,” Hugo says. “It wasn‘t as good as the roast we had last night, but I had a cheeseburger and chips. Then we went to the supermarket, and Mum let me push the trolley.”

“You had roast last night?” Ron asks, arching a brow as he looks at Hermione. “You made roast on a Saturday?”

“Nah, she didn’t make it. Lara from the preserve made it, and it was _so_ good. Dil says maybe she can make it again when we take Rose to visit.” Hugo lowers his voice. “I asked if we could take Rose cause she’d like it.”

“We spent yesterday at a magical creature preserve in Wales,” Hermione explains when she sees Ron looking confused. “Lara is the name of the woman who was cooking in the dining hall.”

“Ah. I understand. And this Dil character?”

“Dil’s Teddy’s friend. He works there and knows Uncle Charlie and rides dragons!”

“Sounds like fun,” Mel says with a grin. “Riding dragons probably isn’t much different than riding a broom.”

“Teddy’s friend who knows Charlie?” Ron asks. He looks at Hermione and frowns. “ _Friend_ or just friend?”

“Teddy’s just friend, though I’m not entirely sure about Charlie.”

Ron snorts. “Knowing Charlie, I can guess.”

“Isn’t like riding a broom, cause a dragon is _huge_ and it moves and turns and twists all over,” Hugo says, thankfully focused on Mel enough that he doesn't seem to hear them discuss Charlie in such a way. 

“I could ride one,” Mel says confidently. She looks like she’s about to say anything else before she closes her mouth and shifts in that way Hermione recognizes as ‘how do I talk to a kid’. That reaction isn’t nearly as common now as it was when Mel first started being around Hugo, but it still appears occasionally.

“Maybe,” Hugo decides. “Just cause you played Quidditch doesn’t mean you can ride a dragon, though.”

“Fair enough.” Mel laughs and shakes her head. “Guess a broom isn’t much like a dragon, anyway.”

Hugo nods. “Nope,” he agrees. After a minute, he smiles. “You could probably ride a dragon good, though.”

“Would you two like something to drink?” Hermione asks. “I can make tea, or there’s juice.”

“Nah, I’m good. We’re not staying that long. Tried Floo calling you yesterday, but you were out every time I did. Guess you were busy at that preserve place.”

“Hugo, would you go get me a glass of juice?” she asks when Ron bites his lip and glances at Hugo.

“ _Mum_ , I know that means you just want me to leave so you can talk to Daddy,” he points out before rolling his eyes and going down the hall to the kitchen.

“He’s becoming such a smart arse,” Ron says. His tone is proud, which makes her purse her lips.

“Yes. He gets that from your side of the family, obviously.” She walks over to sit on the sofa and waits until Mel and Ron sit before she asks, “Now, what didn’t you want to say in front of him?”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to say it. I just hadn’t had a chance to talk to you about it, so I don’t want Hugo to know unless you say yes,” Ron points out.

“That’s very considerate, Ronald. What is it you wanted to ask?”

“Don’t call me Ronald,” Ron whines.

“Actually, I’m the one who wanted to ask,” Mel speaks up, interrupting Ron‘s muttering. “I managed to get an invite to this informal match that some of the team is having this evening, and I thought Hugo might enjoy it. There’s going to be dinner and other kids there, too.”

“Cannons against Falcons,” Ron adds. “All in good fun, since it’s the off-season and all.”

“You could come, too, but I know you’re not that fond of Quidditch,” Mel says. It’s a discussion they’ve had before since Hermione respects her decision to quit playing and become a team healer when many others can’t understand making such a choice at the height of a pro career.

“I’ll bring him home by his bedtime,” Ron promises. “Work tomorrow, after all, so I’ll have to be sure to get my beauty sleep.”

“Are there enough hours in the day for that?” Mel asks, grinning when Ron rolls his eyes at her.

Hermione’s relieved that the awkward stab of _something_ that accompanied their teasing when she was first around them has faded over time. While their divorce was amicable and they both knew it wasn’t working anymore, it still hurt when he found someone else, especially someone so unlike her. 

For a few weeks after she met Mel, she dwelled on her insecurities and doubts before she finally shook it off and realized she was being silly. Now, there’s an occasional pang, mostly because Ron’s been part of her life since she was eleven, but she likes Mel quite a lot, more than she ever expected, and she’s glad Ron’s happy. She’s happy, too, even before she started a relationship with Teddy, though the latter certainly helped ease the loneliness she was feeling.

“So, what do you say?”

Ron’s question pulls her from her thoughts. She ducks her head and refocuses before she looks up and smiles. “If Hugo wants to go, I don’t see a problem with it. If nothing else, he’ll have more to brag to Rose about, which seems to have become one of his goals since she went to school.”

“I want to go!” Hugo peers around the wall where he’s obviously been eavesdropping. When she arches her brow, he quickly says, “I was just walking back into the room. See? I have your juice, Mum! I wasn’t listening.”

“Hugo Edward Weasley, do you think I’ll be more upset if you eavesdrop or you lie?” she asks.

“If I lie,” he mutters. He sighs and looks up at her. “I was listening but only cause you were _still_ talking when I got back with the juice and I didn’t wanna interrupt cause you say that’s rude.”

“It is rude, but so is listening to a conversation that you shouldn’t,” Ron says as he stands up. “Let’s get upstairs and get your shoes so we can go. We’ll be right back.”

They head upstairs, leaving her and Mel in the sitting room. She looks at Mel and smiles. “You really don’t need to be that nervous, you know? You’re doing well.”

Mel laughs. “Is it that bloody obvious? God, I can face a half dozen brawny men flying towards me, but I can’t handle a little kid.”

“Not too obvious, but I’m observant. I haven‘t said anything before because you needed time to adjust,” she says. “And children are scary, even for us parents.”

“If I can be completely honest,” Mel says, running her fingers through her short blonde hair, “Rose is the one who scares me the most, and she’s coming home soon.”

“Three weeks.” Hermione smiles, eager to have her home again. “Rose isn’t that scary. Just a little.”

“Way to make me feel better,” Mel groans. “I don’t know how to deal with girls. I’ve always been a tomboy, and that hasn’t changed too much, even if I am older.”

“You get along well enough with me,” she points out.

“Yeah, but you’re not like most women.” Mel cringes and sighs. “That’s not how I meant it to sound.”

“I consider it a compliment. Besides, Rose takes after me in a lot of ways, which means you shouldn’t be scared. If anything, her love of Quidditch will provide a good opportunity for bonding.”

“Who is bonding?” Ron asks as he enters the room. He’s carrying Hugo over his shoulder and grinning.

“Put me down, _Dad_ ,” Hugo says, wiggling until Ron sets him down. “That was unnecessary!”

Hermione bites her lip to keep from laughing and watches as Ron attempts to look chastised. Hugo walks over to her and gives her a hug. “Have fun,” she tells him.

“We will,” he promises.

“I’ll bring him back around nine.” Ron leans down and kisses her cheek.

Mel smiles. “It was nice seeing you again, Hermione. Maybe we can have lunch sometime and finish our talk.”

“That would be nice. Enjoy the game.” They take the Floo back to Ron’s flat, leaving the house quiet. She leans back against the sofa and listens to the silence for a few minutes before she gets up and walks to the kitchen. There are still groceries to put away, and then she can figure out what to do with her unexpected free evening.


	21. Excursion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decides how she wants to spend her free time

The pad of paper that’s kept in the kitchen for making grocery lists or jotting down odd thoughts that might not be remembered after cooking proves too tempting to resist. Ron said he’d bring Hugo home by nine, which could mean anytime after eight, based on past instances, so it only leaves a few hours free, which is why Hermione tells herself it’s silly to think about trying to see Teddy for such a short time. Besides, they spent most of yesterday together, so he’s probably as busy today as she is. However, that tablet is sitting right there, so close she can touch it if she just reaches out and leans a little, and it doesn’t want her to put away groceries and spend a quiet night alone.

With a muttered curse about her lack of willpower, she summons the paper and pen and writes a quick note to Teddy. It sounds ridiculous, of course. _Ron took Hugo out for dinner. They’ll be back after eight. You busy?_ She’s normally much better at writing correspondence but the newness of the situation has her uncertain as to what to say exactly; she has no experience with hurried dates while the kids are out. She reads the note over and marks through the last sentence, changing it to, _Want to get a drink?_. There. That’s more specific and doesn’t make her sound like an immature teen who hasn’t ever asked a bloke out before. Not that she has.

Once she’s reasonably satisfied with the brief note, she goes out back to get her owl. “Take this letter and wait for a reply,” she tells Cliodna before she sends her off to London. There’s a slight moment of panic when she considers calling her back because, really, it’s rude to send out an invitation without more notice, and the idea of him sending back a reply stating that he’s busy makes her belly twist in a bad way. She hates rejection of any kind, which is probably one of her worst flaws. She'll certainly understand, though, if he doesn't have the time, so she goes ahead and sends the note. The possibility that he _will_ be free makes it worth the risk that he might decline.

After watching Cliodna fly away, she goes back inside to finish with the groceries. It continues to amaze her how much stuff she has to buy every week when it’s just her and Hugo. When Ron left, it was difficult to adjust to not having to buy certain things that he liked, and to having only three people to feed instead of four people, and it’s taken her months to get in the habit of not buying Rose’s favorite biscuits or the cheese she prefers. In a few months, there’ll be another adjustment as she starts buying for just one person for the first time in, well, ever. 

Despite not living with Ron immediately after the war, he and Harry were over enough that she generally kept extra food on hand for their visits. So, it’s never really just been her on her own. It’s scary to think about adapting to such a thing after so long with someone being there. It isn’t that she can’t function on her own, as she’s actually very independent and knows she doesn’t _have_ to have someone around to feel like herself. But it’s easy to develop a habit of relying on others, whether it’s a husband or the children, and she isn’t entirely certain she can modify years of behavior that easily.

Ron has been able to do it, though, so she knows it’s possible. Of course, now he’s got Mel, who is around a lot when the Cannons are in their off-season. She travels quite a lot during the season, though, so he still has periods of time where he’s on his own. It’s probably wrong to compare herself with Ron since they’re totally different in their approach to most things, but Hermione can’t help but think that if he can do it, she’ll be able to. Still, it’s something that worries her in the back of her mind, along with dozens of other random things that like to remind her that she spends too much time thinking of and dealing with anxieties before they even become problems.

By the time she finishes putting away all of the groceries for the week, she feels restless in that annoying way that strikes her occasionally. It happens to come about most often after being around Ron and Mel, but she chooses to ignore that. It’s simple to say she’s happy for Ron, but it’s not so easy to accept that someone has taken her place in his life after so many years. Even if he isn’t suited for her anymore, that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants him to move on, especially with someone so unlike her that it amazes her they ever stayed married if Mel’s his usual type.

It occurs to her that she’s being a hypocrite as she walks into the sitting room and sits down. After all, there aren’t many qualities that Ron and Teddy share. It’s not exactly the same, since she isn’t seriously involved with Teddy or contemplating a future with him, like she suspects Ron is with Mel if things continue going well for them. She deliberately doesn’t think about what will happen if he decides to remarry. Normally, she likes thinking about possible outcomes to various things and analyzing life, but this subject is just too fresh for her to do so yet.

She’s grateful that she and Ron were able to remain friends and that everything was amicable, because the alternative would have been devastating. However, even after three years, it's surprising how often there's another new thing she hasn't considered before, and how much adjusting there still is to do. But, it's getting better. It didn’t hurt as much today, just as it didn’t hurt nearly as much the last time, and she thinks maybe it’ll continue getting better over time.

She really has no room to be upset about Ron and Mel _now_ , though, regardless of the circumstances, and regardless of her own level of intimacy with Teddy. Her affair with him is complicated, which seems to have become a word that she uses too much these days. She’s happy in a way she hasn’t been in years, and it’s not just the sex, which is really quite good. It’s just feeling connected with someone who seems to understand her. When he smiles at her or makes an observation that people who have known her for decades still don’t understand, it doesn't matter that he's only twenty and close enough to be family. He gets her, to be perfectly honest, and that’s just so appealing that she can’t resist, and thinking about him ---and them--- is preferable to slipping into melancholy thoughts about divorce.

She wonders if Cliodna has made it to London yet. She’s a fast owl, but it’s not a short trip, so probably not. There are still a few hours before she wants to be available for Hugo coming home, but she can’t help wanting to enjoy every moment they can steal. Keeping their relationship a secret is essential right now, but it's inconvenient, especially for situations like this one, and she wishes it weren't necessary.

Still, it can’t be helped. There’s a lot at risk to make anything public at this point. The last three weeks have been wonderful, far more than she ever expected when she accepted his dinner invitation. That night changed everything, but she can’t put Hugo through the mess that would likely accompany going public. It’s not even that she doubts Teddy’s sincerity; it’s that she doesn’t even really know what she wants beyond spending more time with him. Openly dating him will change so much more than just their lives, which makes it selfish to consider unless she knows it’s more than a passing fancy.

It’s times like this that she misses Crookshanks more than ever. There would have definitely been snuggles as she thinks too much, and he’d have licked her chin even as he wiggled in protest before settling against her. She had him for so many years that she’s not been able to get another pet since he died. He lived to see the birth of Rose and Hugo, but he was so old by then that he didn’t last very long after Hugo was born. She has so much trouble letting go, she knows, but it’s just who she is, even if she knows it’s silly. Maybe she can get another pet when Hugo goes to school. It might be time to finally let Crookshanks go when she also lets Hugo go.

She sniffles and curses herself as she wipes her eyes. Bloody hell, she’s not going to cry over a long-dead pet. It’s more than that, of course, but she’ll not let stress and worries turn her into an emotional mess. She moved past that phase years ago, for the most part, and she’s honestly stronger than that. Tears can be cathartic, certainly, but this isn’t a situation where they’re necessary. She’s happy right now, with work and Hugo and even her personal life, which she actually has at the moment.

When she hears the Floo, she glances over in surprise, wondering who it is this time. If it’s Ginny asking her to watch Lily so she and Harry can have alone time, she seriously considers inventing a migraine. While she adores her niece, she isn’t really in the mood for babysitting right now. A familiar figure steps out of the fireplace, turquoise hair longer than it was this morning. He smiles sheepishly as he holds up the note. “That owl of yours was stubbornly resistant about leaving without a message, but I wanted to reply in person.”

“I told her to wait for a reply, so she’s probably most disgruntled,” she says with a smile. “If you’re going to tell me you’re busy and don’t have time for a drink, do so quickly and leave so I can mend my broken heart in private.”

“What did I tell you about my inability to say no to you?” he asks, shaking his head as he walks towards the sofa. “As it is, my evening is free, so you‘re stuck with me.” He looks at her more closely and reaches out to wipe a tear away with his thumb. "Everything okay?"

“It's fine. Just a spot of melancholy, but I'm okay. And your hair’s longer,” she murmurs, reaching up to touch as he sits down beside her.

“I don't like melancholy if it makes you cry." He smiles and leans into her touch. "Yeah, I was being silly and practicing when your owl arrived. I do that when I’m thinking sometimes,” he admits. His hair shortens until it’s the normal length, brushing against the strong line of his jaw before he shakes it away from his face. “You’re lucky I’d stopped increasing the size of my nose and lips by that point.” He leans over and brushes his lips gently against hers. “However, I’d be willing to enlarge other parts for your pleasure, should you ever feel the need.”

“Teddy!” She gapes at him and glances down at his lap as heat spreads over her cheeks. It probably says something about her that she hasn’t really considered the ramifications of his ability when it comes to _that_ , though he alluded to it weeks ago when he was flirting. And, now, when he brings it up again, she can’t stop thinking about it. She bites her lip and glances up at him before she says, “I like you how you are, you know?”

“I know. That’s the reason I can make such an offer,” he says honestly. “You’re happy with me as I am, which just amazes me, in a way.”

“It’s a lovely offer, as it was the other time you mentioned it, but I’ll pass for now,” she tells him. “Why would I want anything more than what I already have?”

Instead of replying, he kisses her again. It deepens rather quickly and the gentle gives way to passion as she pulls him closer. When they break apart, he traces her lips with his thumb and brushes his knuckles against her jaw. “I was happy to receive your owl. And, uh, for the record, my answer is yes, I’d like to have a drink and anything else you want.”

“You’ll learn to be more specific in your acceptance,” she warns, kissing the tip of his nose before she stands up. “If you don’t mind getting out, I thought we might walk to the pub in town. They do a trivia night on Sunday that I’ve been to before, and it’s rather fun, even if it involves participating.” She hesitates a moment before she admits, “I’m tempted to forget about the drink and take advantage of you.”

“While I’m all for being taken advantage of, I wouldn’t mind a spot of trivia with a drink,” he says as he gets to his feet. “Besides, it’s still a few hours until eight, so there’s time for advantage-taking later.”

“Very logical. I’m proud.” She smirks and moves away before he can swat her arm. Taking him to the local pub is actually a pretty big step for her, because she’s familiar with people in town, even if she’s not more than casually friendly with any of them. She’s not into public displays of affection, wasn’t even when she was married, so it’s unlikely she’d do more than hold his hand anyway. Still, she’s proud of suggesting the pub and not feeling _too_ anxious about it.

“So’m I.” He preens and kisses her before he offers her his arm. When she takes it, he leads her to the door and outside. He stops walking and his hair turns brown. “Figure I’ll draw less attention this way.”

“Probably wise,” she agrees. It’s late afternoon, and she can smell rain in the air. By night, it’ll be raining, she predicts. She loves the fresh air, and taking walks is one of her favorite things to do since they moved here. She never considered somewhere like Cumbria suiting her, but she loves it here, even if they ended up paying too much for their rundown house than they would have elsewhere. It was a good investment, as they were able to do most of the work themselves or with help from friends. Of course, if she couldn’t simply take the Floo or Apparate to most places, it wouldn’t be sensible to live so far from London and work.

“It’s really beautiful here,” Teddy murmurs, moving his arm so he can take her hand. “Peaceful in a way that London isn’t.”

“I was just thinking that.” She smiles and nods. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? When we decided to get a house once I was pregnant with Rose, we looked at property all over Britain, from larger cities to the smallest of villages, and I knew this was the right place to settle once I saw the house. Ron wasn’t as agreeable, because he thinks it’s in the middle of nowhere, but he was easily persuaded once I put my mind to it.”

Teddy shifts and looks down at the ground before he softly says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m ready to hear you talk about persuading Ron. I mean, I know it was years ago, and I know you two were married for ages, but it’s still a little awkward to consider.”

“Fair enough.” She moves her fingers over his palm and squeezes his hand. “I don’t want to hear about Victoire, after all.”

“Not quite the same for comparing, but I’d not talk about her. Figured that might make you uncomfortable.” He smiles down at her. “So, Hugo went to dinner with Ron?”

“He and Mel took him to a Quidditch scrimmage and dinner.”

“Mel? She’s the, uh, girlfriend?”

“Yes. Demelza Robins. She was a Chaser with the Cannons years ago until she suffered an injury and decided to become a healer. You might remember it being in the Prophet, as it was quite a big story in Quidditch circles back then. A star player at the height of their career leaving the game always seems to cause such shock amongst fans.”

“I’m not really into Quidditch that much, but the name is somewhat familiar. You, um, okay with all that?”

“I don’t mind that you don’t like Quidditch.”

“Brat. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

She sighs and looks up at the sky. “It’s difficult. I’m glad that Ron’s happy, you know? And I’m friendly with Mel, but there’s awkwardness because of the situation. She’s a good person, though, and she made Ron work for the first date, which I admire. With his name and reputation, he could easily have become a target of some fame-hungry slag.” She smiles wryly. “It doesn’t matter that the war ended nearly twenty years ago; we still have that ‘hero’ status.”

He studies her a moment and tugs on her hand, pulling her closer as he moves his arm around her shoulders to give her a hug before he takes her hand again. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be, but I’m glad you like her relatively well. It would be worse if you hated her, I figure. Though, you know, I happen to be quite smug about the fact that I'm dating a real life heroine," he teases. He squeezes her hand and becomes serious. "You _do_ know I'm not interested in you for that reason, don't you? I'm not like that."

“Yes, I know. If you were like that, we never would reached this point. And, yes, it would be much worse if I hated Mel,” she agrees, leaning against him slightly as they walk towards town. “She’s completely clueless about how to deal with Hugo, which makes her more approachable, maybe. I think Ron really likes her, though, so I suppose I have to adjust and learn how to deal with her if I want our friendship to continue to be genial.”

“When Gram told me that he was seeing someone, she mentioned that it was ‘some fit blonde athlete’ but I’m glad that she’s tolerable, at least.”

Hermione smiles. “I think it’s funny that your grandmother is such a gossip when she acts so above such things.”

“I love Gram to death, but she definitely thinks she’s earned the right to have a set of standards for herself and a set for everyone else to follow,” he says. “With the way she talks sometimes, you’d think she was a hundred instead of in her late sixties. She’s also not nearly as old-fashioned about some things as she likes to pretend.”

“Do you worry what she’d say if she found out about us?”

Teddy glances at her and bites his lip before he looks ahead. “Honestly? No, because she shouldn’t care so long as I’m happy. I mean, if you love someone, you accept their choices, like you do with Ron and his new girl. Maybe that makes me selfish, but I don’t care who knows, even if I do respect your choice for it to be a secret now.”

“It doesn’t make you selfish, Ted.” She considers his words as they finish the rest of their walk in peaceful silence, just enjoying the late afternoon sunlight and fresh air. When she was younger, she was optimistic and idealistic, too. She could easily see herself making that same statement back then, before she grew up and realized that things aren’t usually that easy. And other people are affected, in this case, due to their connection with her. There are times when she misses the days of passionate optimism, but there’s no going back to what once was, and she likes the woman she’s become, flaws and all.

They arrive at the pub, one of three in town, and she greets a few people she recognizes from shopping at the grocery and butcher on occasion. While she usually goes to the large supermarket in another town, she tends to buy most their meat at the butchery because it’s just better, in her opinion. She’d buy more things at the grocery in this town, but their selection is rather limited, and she likes having choices for when she wants to be thrifty, which is often. She introduces Teddy as a friend, deliberately vague as to what sort, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

A few people stare and whisper, which unsettles her, but she does her best to ignore them and enjoy her pint. Teddy notices and glares before she can stop him, but a quick kick under the table turns his attention back to her. “Just ignore them,” she murmurs before they continue talking about the upcoming week and work. A couple of older women join them when it’s time for trivia, and Teddy soon has them both charmed into behaving like giggling schoolgirls instead of women older than herself. He does it so effortlessly that it amazes her, and she doubts he even realizes just how captivating he can be.

As they settle into playing trivia, she begins to relax more. The looks and whispers of a few can’t ruin their fun, and many others don’t seem to notice or care that they’re together. The questions are all Muggle related, of course, so Teddy doesn’t know a lot. He scowls a few times when he misses an answer or seems completely lost, but he shrugs it off and laughs before trying again. It’s funny, but she likes seeing him at moments when he’s not at his best, because it’s all too easy to focus on all his good points and forget that he’s not perfect. His flaws help define him, after all, and she likes that he gets annoyed when he gets the wrong answers.

By the time trivia is over, with their team placing second and the winners earning a good-natured vow of a rematch from Ted, it’s almost eight. She’s torn between being disappointed that there’s not going to be time for anything physical and being happy after spending a lovely evening with Teddy. The latter wins out because, really, they can shag other times but the trivia and laughter with new friends can’t be captured at any free moment without a child around.

It’s raining lightly when they step outside. “I thought it was going to rain,” she says. She glances at him. “We can Apparate to the house, if you want.”

“It’s just drizzle, so we won’t melt if we walk,” he tells her. “Up to you, though. It’s nearly eight, and I don’t want you catching cold if we get soaked.”

“Like you said, it’s just drizzle, so we’re unlikely to get soaked unless it gets worse,” she decides. “We can walk, if only so I can enjoy a little more of your company before reality once again intrudes.”

“Damn that reality,” he whispers before they start the walk out of town and back to her house. After they walk awhile, talking about questions they missed and comparing their lack of knowledge when it comes to Muggle things, which is rather embarrassing for her since she is a Muggleborn, he takes her hand. She appreciates that he waits until they’re far enough away for anyone to be likely to see them, when she knows he’d have had no problem taking it at anytime during the evening.

They’re nearly to her house when it begins to rain more heavily. Teddy looks up at the sky and laughs, shaking his head as his wet hair fades from brown to burnt orange. When he looks down at her, she feels a twisting in her belly that she decides not to analyze right now. He lowers his head and kisses her, right there on the side of the lane as rain falls down on them. 

And she lets him. 

In fact, she raises her arm and tangles her fingers in his hair as she kisses him back. He moves his arms around her, dragging his hand down her back to gently cup her bum as he pulls her closer. His other hand moves up until he’s tugging on her hair as the kiss deepens. She parts her lips and their tongues flick against each other, noses bumping as they shift, and then he’s curling his tongue around hers and she’s sucking gently and the cool wet rain is refreshing against her heated skin.

When they finally pull back, she blinks away raindrops as she looks up at him. He smiles and caresses her cheek before he brushes a kiss against her forehead. “Let’s get you home before you catch cold,” he murmurs. There’s a nerve in his cheek that’s twitching, which makes her think he’s resisting the urge to just say bugger it all and kiss her again. He sighs and takes her hand, pulling her along beside him. “Have to get you back before Hugo returns anyway.”

“Right. It’s later than I expected,” she says softly, walking beside him as they finish the trip home. When they arrive at her house, she casts drying charms on their clothes after they get inside. “There, that’s better.”

“I don’t know. I kinda like you wet,” he admits, giving her a playful leer. “Seriously, thanks. For drying my clothes, of course, but mostly for inviting me out tonight. I had a lot of fun, even if I didn’t get taken advantage of. There’s always next time, right?”

“You’re awful.” She laughs and kisses him slowly. After she pulls back, she says, “Yes, there’s always next time. Sweet dreams, Teddy---Ted.” He grins and kisses her once more before he takes the Floo back home. She smiles as she sits on the sofa, reaching for a pillow that she hugs against her chest while she waits for Hugo to come home.


	22. Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has lunch with Harry and gets a new case

The note is delivered to the office at half-nine. As soon as Hermione sees the man in Auror robes shifting awkwardly in her doorway, she knows that he has a note from Harry. While these are relatively rare occasions, they have become routine over the years. She sometimes teases Harry about him becoming predictable in certain aspects of his work, but she likes the pattern when it comes to this.

After she beckons the man into her office, she takes the parchment from him and removes the charms effortlessly before she reads. _Hermione - I need to have lunch with you. I’ll be at your office by eleven. Harry._ It’s very brief and to the point, which causes her lips to purse. Harry isn’t a man of many words under the best of circumstances, yet she recognizes that he’s stressed and upset just from these few. Need instead of want confirms that it does involve work. The eleven o’clock lunch time is early, which means it must be serious.

“Tell him that’s fine,” she says composedly, even as her mind is racing to try to figure out what this must be about. After the Auror nods and leaves, she sits back in her chair and studies the note before she calls out, “Caroline, please come here.”

Less than a minute later, Caroline is standing in the doorway with a notepad and pen, which Hermione feels are more useful than parchment and a quill in a busy work environment. “Please owl Finnigan’s and secure a private booth for eleven o’clock, and mark my calendar, too. I’m having a working lunch with Mr. Potter, and we don’t want to be disturbed.”

“I’ll do it right now,” Caroline says, smiling at Hermione before she leaves the office. She’s been Hermione’s assistant for eight years now, so she’s familiar with the routine, too.

Once Caroline is seeing to the arrangements, Hermione looks at the note again. “Lupin, please come here,” she calls out. She kicks her shoes off beneath her desk, stretching out her toes as she rubs the back of her neck. It’s Tuesday and she was able to get the rest of Ogden’s files sorted yesterday, so she expected it to be a normal day. Of course, she should know better than to plan for ‘normal’ around here.

“You hollered my name, Boss?” Teddy says with a grin as he enters the office. He’s wearing his spectacles, and it looks like he didn’t shave this morning judging by the faint shadow on his jaw. 

Upon seeing him, she unconsciously licks her lips and blinks at him before she shakes her head slightly and focuses. “Please sit,” she says, indicating the chair in front of her desk. “Have you heard any news from down the hall?”

At her question, he frowns in thought and sits down. ‘Down the hall’ is code for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which currently encompasses the Aurors, hit wizards, Unspeakables, and the Department of Mysteries, though the latter is still several floors below them. She expects that this particular lunch will involve Aurors, but she can’t be completely positive since Harry tends to have Aurors around regardless of the situation.

“Not recently,” Teddy says. “I mean, nothing out of the ordinary. There were whispers about an Unspeakable being caught with his trousers down, literally, while he was on an assignment, but that area is impossible to hear anything reliable about. Otherwise, I haven’t heard anything different or bizarre. Just the usual gossip, which I hear even though I have no interest in that sort of thing.”

It’s not internal, she knows. Terry Boot normally handles any case that’s internal or involves employees of the Ministry. If Harry’s contacted her directly, especially knowing her current case load, it has to be one of only a few things. She just hopes that she might narrow it down before eleven so she can be prepared. She hates when Harry does this. Being vague certainly cuts down the risk of anyone knowing exactly what he’s saying, but with the charms he places on any private correspondence, it’s also not exactly necessary. Besides, if anyone took the time to break the charms, they’d soon discover it was impossible since the charms are personalized to the recipient.

“Is everything okay?” Teddy asks softly. He pushes his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and stares at her intently. She takes a moment to look at him, wetting her lips when his gaze briefly drops, before she nods.

“It’s fine. Harry has a case to discuss over lunch, so I was just curious if there was any news to indicate what it might concern. Considering he wants to meet earlier than our usual lunch time, I expect it’s something new that he deems urgent.”

“I could go get coffee down the hall and see if I hear anything,” he offers as he stares at her. He bites his lip, and she sees him curl his fingers around the notepad he’s holding until his knuckles are white. _I want to touch you_ is unspoken, but her skin tingles and warms up even as he resists.

“That’s not necessary. If it’s not already being discussed, then Harry’s obviously keeping a tight hold on information right now. I’ll find out in a little over an hour anyway, so I‘ll just have to be patient.”

“Whoever said that patience is a virtue is a bloody liar,” he mutters, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair before he flashes a smile. “I’ll let you know if I happen to hear anything before your lunch, Boss.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” she says. “How is the progress coming on the Stapleton case?”

He flips through his notepad and glances down. “Collins and I finished questioning the tenants, and it appears the claims of prejudice are substantiated. Two other Muggleborns allege that they were harassed, and that Stapleton told them, ‘Pay the rent on your knees like others of your kind’ on more than one occasion. They agreed to present evidence if necessary, as did three others who had witnessed similar behavior but weren’t the focus of it. One wizard actually filed a complaint about a situation he witnessed, but the Housing Authority failed to follow up on the allegations. It is documented, though, so I plan to get copies of that and seek out the person named, as she no longer lives at the building.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to showing Stapleton just what ‘my kind’ can do when I vilify him in the courtroom,” she says firmly. She disliked the man as soon as she read the casenotes, so she knows she’ll take satisfaction in seeing him convicted. It’s probably wrong of her to make cases more personal in that way, but it’s one of the reasons that she works so hard and does her best not to lose. If she were distant and unaffected, she’d be as ineffective as Parsons, who takes any case that pays him well enough and never cares about a verdict.

“I’m looking forward to that, too,” Teddy says. “I’m planning to go down to records later this morning to find the file because the Housing Authority already sent it to archives. Once I get that information, I’ll keep you up-to-date on what I find out before I find the woman involved.”

“Take Collins with you when you find her. If she was harassed by Stapleton, she might be more open to talking to a female than a male,” she tells him. “And, yes, keep me updated as you proceed. Depending on how my lunch with Harry goes, I might need you on whatever he wishes to discuss, so take time to compile your notes today in case we let Collins take it on completely.”

“Will do, Boss.” He stands up and closes his notepad before he leans down and whispers, “For the record, I want to word-I-can’t-say-at-work you right now.” He straightens and winks before he goes back out to his desk.

“Incorrigible,” she mutters even as she smiles and reaches for a file. The time flies by quickly as she reviews two cases that are close to completion, wanting them ready to finish up if it’s necessary. 

The last time Harry summoned her for one of these meetings, it was an intricate case that required her complete concentration for weeks, along with long hours and even overtime. Selfishly, she hopes this case isn’t that difficult because Rose is coming home soon, and she only has a couple of months before both the children are leaving her for Hogwarts. However, based on previous experience, she has a sinking feeling that this one is bad. Harry rarely ever seeks a meeting without at least a day’s notice. Her schedule is as busy as his, and he respects that she can’t just drop everything for him. Today, however, he hasn’t even given her an hour and a half’s notice.

“Oi, Teddy, nice specs.”

The sound of Harry’s voice from the office outside catches her attention, so she closes her file and straightens her desk. She hears Teddy laugh before he says, “Look better on me than you. Jealous, Godpapa?”

“And there we have proof of the foolishness of youth,” Harry replies. “You just wish you looked so good, Godson.”

“Children,” Hermione warns as she fights a smile. She glances at Caroline, who is biting her lip to keep from smiling even as she focuses on gathering her filing and quietly leaving the office. “If anything, I think it’s proof of man’s fallibility by placing so much importance on appearances and competition.”

Harry looks at her, and her earlier fears return despite his teasing with Teddy. There are shadows beneath his eyes, which means he’s been up all night, and he looks exhausted. He’s wearing Auror robes, but she expects that they’re the same ones he wore yesterday. He smiles slightly as he tells Teddy, “When she starts using big words like that, it’s usually better to just surrender or else you might be forced to think.”

“I’ve heard about the big words warning,” Teddy says, ducking his head as he smiles while obviously remembering his conversation with Hugo the other day. He looks back up and arches a brow. “Fortunately, I don’t mind having to think sometimes. Keeps her on her guard since I don’t give up as easily as others.”

“Foolish youth,” Harry mutters again even as he grins. “Many a person has spoken those fighting words before, and our Hermione is always the last one standing. But good for you, Teddy. Keep her on her toes until she defeats you so horrifically that you’re drained and babbling nonsensical words because she’s managed to make you realize you aren’t nearly as smart as you think.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Godpapa,” Teddy quips even as his attention is focused on her. “I already know I’m not as smart as I think, so I’ve removed her advantage by acknowledging my own weakness. I think I’m a good match for her.”

“Everyone has weaknesses, Lupin,” she says curtly, a smile softening her tone even as she narrows her eyes at him for basically flirting right in front of Harry. He’s lucky that Harry is distracted. Or maybe she’s the one reading more into his innocent teasing than she should. At that idea, she becomes slightly flustered and concentrates on something else, namely Harry and the working lunch. “I’ve reserved a private booth at Finnigan’s for lunch.”

“Good. We should go,” Harry says with a nod. He picks up a file from the edge of Teddy’s desk and smiles mischievously. “We’ll bring you back a kiddie meal, Teddy. Maybe even a biscuit, if Hermione thinks you deserve one.”

“Very funny,” Teddy says dryly, glancing at Hermione as he shifts uncomfortably. Having his age ridiculed is obviously a touchy subject, even when it’s Harry doing the teasing.

“If you need anything, we’ll be at Finnigan’s,” she says softly. “Only you or Caroline have permission to disturb us.”

“No worries, Boss. I’ll take care of everything,” he tells her with a smile.

She follows Harry out of the office and down the hall to the lift. He won’t discuss the case with her until he feels it’s the right time, and that certainly won’t be in a public hallway. When they step onto the lift, which is fortunately empty, she asks, “Are you looking forward to James and Albus returning home soon?”

“Of course,” he says, tightening his grip on the file. “I think Lily’s the most excited, though. She hasn’t enjoyed being on her own so much. I feel sorry for her that she has another year of it before she goes to Hogwarts. Is Rose eager to come home?”

“I think so, though it’s difficult to tell in letters. She mostly talks about her subjects and plans for trying out for Quidditch next year. Oddly enough, Malfoy’s son is one of her biggest competitors for top marks in their classes but he’s also part of her scheme for next year’s tryouts. She has decided that Ravenclaw might actually win a few matches by having three second years make the team, so they're working out practice schedules for the summer and such.”

“Ron has whined about the marks, but I wasn’t aware of the team strategy,” Harry says thoughtfully. He laughs suddenly. “God, is it immature of me to wish I could see the look on Malfoy’s face when he hears his precious son is scheming with a Weasley who’s your daughter, no less?”

“Very immature,” she agrees as they step off the lift and start their walk to Finnigan‘s. “I assume that news probably wouldn’t cause as much of a shock as his son being sorted in Ravenclaw did, actually.”

“I almost feel sorry for the kid,” Harry mutters at that. “Houses aren’t the same now, though it’s probably good for the kid that he wasn’t put into Slytherin. With that last name and his looks, it would have been tough.”

“Like Al had he been sorted into Gryffindor,” she says softly.

He glances at her and smiles. “Yeah, like that. I was oddly relieved when he sent us the owl telling us he’d been put into Hufflepuff. It’s a good House, and he won’t be stuck with my looks and name trying to follow the same footsteps. James loves Gryffindor, but he definitely takes after Ginny more, so I wasn’t as worried about him.”

“Perhaps Malfoy felt the same way about Scorpius,” she muses. While Malfoy managed to escape Azkaban, in part due to his mother’s political maneuvering and in part due to the lack of evidence showing him guilty of anything more than being a scared child caught up in things he didn’t particularly understand, many people still muttered and whispered about the family. She has no fondness for Malfoy particularly, but she’s come across him over the years during her work, and they’ve always been politely civil. His wife is quite charming and serves on several committees that Hermione‘s worked with, so she has more contact with her. She’s guilty of originally assuming that he married Colette due to her Muggleborn status rather than any emotional connections, though she no longer feels that way, regardless of her opinion of Malfoy.

“Maybe. I still don’t trust the man, but he’s not my concern unless he breaks the law. Did you know that Teddy actually goes over for dinner once a month? Cousins and all that family connection nonsense,” Harry says, making a face. “Teddy used to eat with us three or four nights a week, but we don’t see him so much now that he’s getting older. I guess I should be glad he visits most every week, since I know he’s busy with his internship and that grandmother of his. Guess I still think about him as being five and tagging along everywhere I go, but he’s a man now. God, we’re getting old, aren’t we?”

It’s awkward to hear Harry talk about Teddy. More uncomfortable than she ever expected, especially when she has to bite her tongue to not say anything incriminating. She wasn’t aware that Teddy had dinner with Malfoy monthly, as he never said anything whenever she talked about Rose’s rivalry with Scorpius. It makes her wonder what else she doesn’t know about him. When she realizes Harry will expect a reply, she says, “I think we’re only as old as we feel. While Teddy’s definitely not five anymore, that doesn’t automatically mean we’re ancient. He’s a good man, so I suppose that should help you adjust to the fact he’s no longer a child.”

“Is he doing well with his internship?” Harry asks curiously. “I was surprised when he told me what he’d decided to do, in all honesty, because it didn’t seem to suit him, but he’s been very enthusiastic.”

“He’s really good,” she says honestly, “but I don’t think his heart is in it, not the way it needs to be if you want to be successful. He’s more for action and doing something versus being patient and following lengthy processes to obtain convictions. He’d do well, regardless of lacking the nature better suited for it, though I doubt there’s anything he couldn’t do well if he set his mind to it.”

“Takes after his parents in that way,” Harry says. “Thanks for telling me. I’ve asked him but it’s tough to get a straight answer out of him sometimes. He seems happy, so I guess he’s enjoying it.”

They arrive at Finnigan’s before Harry can continue talking about Teddy. She’s relieved to have the distraction because she hates lying to Harry, even if it’s just by not being completely honest. Seamus greets them and walks them back to a private booth. Once they’re seated, he hands them menus.

“The special today is a Cornish pastie, though we have a veggie pastie for those who don't like meat,” Seamus tells them. “Choice of chips or mashed potatoes. Dessert is apple pie, either plain or with ice cream.”

“That sounds good,” Harry says. “Cornish with potatoes. I’ll have ice cream, of course. And I think I want pumpkin juice. No laughing.”

“Wasn’t gonna laugh,” Seamus says, eyes twinkling as he winks at Hermione. “And for you, my love?”

“The same, actually.” She smiles. “Thank you.”

“That’s easy ‘nuff. Seeing as it’s a private lunch, I’ll put these in for yeh and bring it out myself,” Seamus tells them. Considering they hear the same offer every time they request a private booth, it’s pointless for him repeat himself, but she figures it’s just habit. “Oi! Nearly forgot. I’m having a party for Dean on Friday night. It’s his birthday, the old tosser, and I have to make sure everyone knows he’s another year older. It’s a surprise, of course, cause he’d hex my bollocks off if he knew I was plannin' anything. Quite like them where they are, so keep it mum. Eight o’clock Friday. Taking place here, as I’ll close for the night.”

“We’ll keep it secret,” Harry promises as he scribbles a note on a piece of clean paper. “Eight?”

“Yeah, eight. I’m not sending out invites so there’s less chance of Dean finding out, so let Ron know if yeh see him before I do?” Seamus asks.

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Hermione says. Seamus grins and leaves them to their work. Harry, however, seems hesitant to begin discussing the case since he drums his fingers on the file and doesn’t start talking.

“You can come with me and Ginny,” he says. At her confused look, he grins. “Sorry. The party on Friday. I know how you hate attending those sorts of things alone.”

“Oh, right. Thank you. That sounds fine,” she tells him. Now that Ron is dating Mel, she knows he’ll have a date. As for her, the only person she considers asking isn’t someone she _can_ date openly, so Harry and Ginny are a decent alternative to going alone.

“How’s work? Getting caught up from Ogden?”

“Work is manageable. And, yes, I was able to get the last of his files sorted yesterday. He came into the office and worked for a few hours, too. He looks better than he did last week, but he said St. Mungos isn’t sure what’s causing his weakness and exhaustion yet. Still doing tests, though he has Macmillan as his Healer, so he’s in good hands.”

Harry nods. “Hannah will take good care of him. I’m glad work is calmer than it was.”

“Harry, are you going to continue making idle chit chat, which is so contradictory to your nature that it’s painfully obvious when you try, or just discuss the case file that you keep fondling?”

“There are times when I really dislike your blunt honesty.”

“So you’ve told me, oh, hundreds of times over the last twenty plus years.”

“You don’t have to sound so smug about it.”

“If you don’t start talking, Potter, I’ll summon the file myself.”

He sighs and pulls his glasses off, rubbing them with the sleeve of his robe before he puts them back on. “It---you might prefer waiting until after we eat.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, feeling a weight in her belly at his words. If Harry thinks it’s going to be that bad, she can’t not be concerned.

“Ron was going to come with us for lunch,” he says quietly, peering at her seriously, “but he had to finish up a few things and couldn’t make it.”

“I understand.” And she does. Harry alone for a business lunch means it’s something he thinks will bother her. If Ron attends, too, it’s even worse. After all her experiences with the war and then later in the department, there aren’t many things that really get to her anymore. She might be affected, but not in a way that is visibly noticeable. Whenever those few cases do come up that have her triggers, though, her boys take measures to give her a little protection from prying eyes until she’s okay. She loves them for it, even if she protested such coddling at first.

He nudges her leg with his and smiles. “It’ll be okay. I just---I’d rather wait until after we eat. I need the break,” he admits.

“Right,” she says, understanding that well enough. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not a wink. Ginny’ll kill me for working so hard until she finds out why. Then, well, she understands,” he says in a grateful tone. “So, is Hugo looking forward to Diagon Alley shopping and getting his wand?”

“Of course. I actually need to talk to Dean on Friday about that. You know, it’s funny, isn’t it? Somehow, apprenticing with Ollivander transmitted that odd ability of knowing when it’s the right time to buy a wand.” She smiles and tries not to stare at the file.

“I’ve noticed that but wasn’t sure if I was just imagining things.” Harry grins. “I’m glad I’m not. James actually has one of Dean’s wands, but the one who chose Albus was Ollivander’s.”

She nods. “Ginny mentioned that it was slightly surreal for her son to have a wand made by her ex-boyfriend,” she teases softly. “Rose has one of Ollivander’s, but one of Dean’s nearly chose her. I wonder how many more years it’s going to take before we just call them ‘wands’ instead of differentiating that way. It’s been five years since Ollivander officially retired, after all, and we still do it.”

“Alas, we are creatures of habit, so I figure Dean’s stuck with it for our generation, at least. I mean, we still call it Lovegood’s Quibbler and Patil’s Quibbler, and Parvati took over as editor over ten years ago.”

“Point. We humans are silly creatures,” she says with a smile. Seamus arrives with their food and drinks and, once he sees they’re not working yet, sits to chat for a few minutes while they begin to eat. After he goes back to work, they eat in silence, both sneaking looks at the file. 

When they finish eating, Seamus comes over to clear the plates and they ask that the pie not be brought out for awhile so they can get some work done. Once he leaves them to it, Harry sighs and opens the file. “This is one of the worst I’ve seen,” he says quietly. “When the owl arrived last night, I knew it had to be big or my Aurors wouldn’t have contacted me. I just had no idea until I got there. I know it’s breaking that stupid ‘forty-eight hour’ rule by bringing you in already, but you need to be part of this from the start.”

She takes the file from him and looks down. A brief review of the notes has her hands shaking, and she feels nauseous as she looks at the accompanying photographs. “God,” she whispers, staring in horror at the bodies of four children who are so near the size of Hugo and Rose that she feels tears in her eyes. The next few photographs show two other children, around the same age or younger, who are alive but have obviously been abused and tortured.

“Those two escaped last night. When the Aurors went to Warrington’s estate, they found him asleep. He wasn’t aware the kids had got out, and he gave some story about them obviously lying as he had no idea who they were, _after_ he confirmed knowledge of them. Stupid bastard,” Harry growls softly. “I was contacted because Charles Warrington is a wealthy Pureblood with a history of dark magic, even if there are no direct links to Voldemort.”

“Yes, I know the name,” she whispers, trying to concentrate and move past the desire to throw up. She glances up and smiles wryly. “He donates quite a lot of money to the children’s fund every year.”

“Of course he does,” Harry says dryly. “When I arrived, I was filled in on the changing story, and he was acting too suspiciously to not be guilty of something. I know, me being judgmental again but I’m usually right. In this case, I wish I hadn’t been. A search of his house was made, and we found a door in the dungeon that led into a room like the children described. We found those four dead. The medical examiner estimates they died at various times within the last week and the abuse continued after death.”

Harry can barely say the last few words, and she puts her hand over her mouth as she stares at the table, forcing herself to stay in control. “Judging from the wounds, I’d suggest various magical and Muggle torture as well as sexual abuse. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Harry says softly. “The two children who escaped were found by a neighbor, who alerted the Aurors immediately. They told her where they escaped from, said the other kids weren’t moving anymore, and mentioned the damp, cold room before they stopped talking. We haven’t pressed for anything more yet, but they’re in the custody of protective services. They’ve also been abused and tortured, and Healer Matthews says it’s a miracle that the little boy survived judging by his injuries.”

“Those poor babies,” she whispers, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she writes a few notes. “Do we know who they are yet?”

“No. Warrington isn’t saying anything, but we’ve searched his study and found paperwork from Oakwood, so we suspect they’re adopted. I won’t say it officially without proof, of course, but I figure they’re Muggleborn. The boy who survived is roughly ten and the girl isn‘t much older, maybe twelve, according to Matthews.”

“If he adopted them from Oakwood, how did this happen?” she asks. “There are rules and procedures set up to prevent this!”

“It’s just a suspicion at this point, Hermione. We’ll know more once we have time to investigate,” Harry reminds her softly.

“If Oakwood is at fault, I’ll see them suffer as much as Warrington,” she promises him.

“I know you will. It’s why I’m involving you,” he says matter-of-factly. “This bastard deserves the worst that can be imagined, and you’re the only one I know capable of giving it to him.”

She nods and looks back at the photos, forcing herself to study them despite her desire to look away and not ever see them again. “I’ll go through the file this afternoon. Copy me on anything important. No, change that. Copy me on everything, because there could be something important that would be overlooked. Is it okay if I’m there when you try to speak with the children?”

“Of course. Ron is handling the case directly, and I’m overseeing it. We have three of our best Aurors working on this, and I’ll have to figure out a statement to make before the papers get hold of it. The last thing we need is mass panic or allegations of Death Eaters torturing and killing children. We can keep it quiet until tomorrow, at least, then I’ll meet with Lee, Parvati and Penelope, so the WWN, Quibbler and Prophet all have the same information. Thank god they’ll be reasonable about things. Having children and death involved automatically creates tension for people.”

“If you need help with the statement, let me know,” she offers as she closes the file. She’ll pull Teddy off Stapleton and ask Entwhistle to be her second. Kevin knows Pureblood society and has a similar interest in cases involving children, so she doesn’t foresee him refusing. For now, though, she has something she needs to do. “I’ll review this more in depth when I get back to the office. I need to go now, though. I’ll see you later, Harry. And thanks for lunch.”

She stands up and brushes a kiss against his cheek. He reaches for her hand and squeezes it tightly. “We’ll make him regret this,” he vows quietly, and she nods her agreement. “I’ll stop by in the morning for you to review my statement, or help me write it, if I can’t find the words. You know how bad I am at that stuff.”

“You’ll do fine,” she whispers, giving him a hug before she impulsively ruffles his hair. He swats at her hand, and she smiles as she holds the file tightly and leaves the private room. She stops at the bar to pay, and Seamus gives her a take-away container with her pie. After she agrees to be at the party on Friday, she goes to the fireplace and tosses in Floo powder.

When she steps through and enters the Burrow, she listens for voices. Hugo and Lily are laughing, and she follows the direction of the laughter into the kitchen, where she finds them covered in flour as Molly shakes her head.

“Mum!” Hugo cries out as he notices her and seems to forget his recent 'I'm too old to hug Mum in public' rule as he steps towards her. She walks forward, setting the file down as she exchanges a look with Molly before she leans down and catches Hugo as he runs to her. She hugs him tightly, needing this brief moment with her child before she returns to work and starts reviewing her new case.


	23. Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione reviews the case with Ron

Hugo likes the apple pie but declares it would be perfect if it had ice cream. Hermione has to agree, though not enough to go back into the Burrow to ask Molly if she has vanilla ice cream. She’s found a comfortable spot in the garden, and Hugo is sitting beside her sharing her pie before she has to return to work. She tries not to think about the new case while Hugo tells her about his day so far. 

It isn’t easy to avoid it, however. The photographs flash in her mind, and she feels sick thinking about it being one of her children or a friend’s child in that situation. She’s had worse cases, unfortunately---a few years after she first started in Magical Law, there was a serial killer who targeted young teenaged witches, so she was forced to learn how to distance herself without losing empathy for the victim long ago---but crimes against children bother her more than any other.

After they finish the slice of pie, she gives Hugo a kiss on the cheek, receives a hug from Lily, and tells Molly goodbye before she takes the Floo back to the lobby of the Ministry. She’s in a better mental place to review the case in depth now that she’s spent time with Hugo, and, by the time she reaches her office, she’s resolved to see Warrington receive the worst punishment available.

Caroline isn’t at her desk when she enters the office, but Teddy is flipping through a file and making notes. He looks up after she closes the door and frowns as he studies her. “Everything okay, Boss?” he asks with concern as he stands up. He reaches out as if to touch her arm, then freezes, catching himself, before he slowly drops his hand again. “You look upset.”

“There’s a new case,” she explains quietly. She bites her lip and considers giving him a hug. Caroline’s gone, so it’s not like anyone will catch them if they’re quick about it. She could really use the feel of his strong arms around her at the moment. She takes a step closer, but he shakes his head once and nods at her office.

“Is it the file Harry had?” He runs his fingers through his hair and sits on the edge of his desk, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, which is a nervous habit she’s noticed over the last few months.

“Yes. It’s bad. One of the worst that’s come through the office in awhile. I’m going to need you to give Collins everything on Stapleton, because I need you working on this one with us.”

“Got it. I already have most of the Stapleton file organized, so I’ll finish that immediately,” he says before lowering his voice. “You have a visitor. He went into your office to wait.”

She arches a brow and scowls. “In my office?”

“It’s Ron,” he tells her. “Caroline’s at lunch, so I wasn’t sure if I should insist he wait out here or what.”

“Oh, no. That’s fine. Ron’s an exception.” She bites her lip and fusses with the file for a moment as she realizes she nearly hugged Teddy with her ex-husband in the next room. She’s relieved that he stopped her before she could. “I’ll go see what he needs. After he leaves, I’ll give you a rundown on the case.”

“Okay, Boss.” He smiles slightly and sits back down so he can finish his notes.

When she enters her office, she finds Ron sitting in one of the guest chairs. His elbows are on the edge of her desk, and he’s cradling his head in his hands. From the slump of his shoulders and bad posture, she knows he’s had as rough a day as Harry. “Hi, you,” she says softly, closing the door behind her. She walks over and squeezes his shoulder, not surprised when he turns his head and hugs her around her waist.

It takes him a minute to speak, but she can finally hear words muffled by her robes. He pulls his head back and looks up at her, staring for a moment before he sighs and shakes his head slightly. “It’s a bad one, Hermione.”

“I know.” She starts to brush his hair out of his eyes but catches herself before she does. After so many years, the small intimate gestures are such a habit that she finds herself making them unconsciously. She curls her fingers into her palm and walks around the desk to sit down. “How are the children?”

“Alive, but barely. Matthews says it’ll be a couple of days before they’ll be ready for us to try talking with them. I figure I’ll go by on Thursday afternoon, so set aside a couple of hours. I assume you‘ll want to come with.”

“Of course,” she says. “I already cleared it with Harry. I’m intending to bring Entwhistle into this one as my second, and I’m reassigning Lupin and Bones to the team.”

He listens and nods, frowning slightly before he says, “Good choices. Susan always does well on these cases, and Entwhistle has a solid record. You think Teddy’s ready for something like this?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “But he’s the intern, which means he needs the training. Besides, with Ogden on leave, the department’s already struggling.”

“I’m sure that Teddy’ll do fine,” he says after a moment.

She nods. “I wouldn’t assign him to the case if I weren’t completely confident in his abilities,” she says honestly. She glances at the file and then back at him. “Any chance Warrington will just confess after a couple of days in holding?”

He snorts. “I doubt it. Warrington’s one of those annoying bastards who thinks he can buy his way out of anything, even what he did to those poor kids.”

“Is there any new information beyond what’s in the file?” she asks, knowing exactly what type Warrington is from the little interaction she’s had with him over the years. “I reviewed it briefly at lunch, but I have to make a more thorough study of it now.”

“Not much. Today, we secured the house and are doing a thorough search to see if we can locate anything that might have been used in the torture or the abuse. We, uh, suspect that it wasn’t just traditional abuse judging by some of the injuries of the dead children. We sent everything downstairs for processing, but it’ll be tomorrow, at least, before the potion results come back to potentially link anything we located.”

She cringes when he mentions the suspicions regarding the abuse, wondering if she could convince the Wizengamot that unanesthetized castration followed by a shrinking charm for whatever is left would be a suitable punishment to add to whatever sentence is decided. She focuses her attention back on the case and makes a note about the tests. “That’s understandable, and it‘ll be great if they do get them back tomorrow. I’ll send a memo down to the lab asking them to copy me on any results. Who’s in charge of the case down there?”

“Corner. I already told him to make sure to send you copies of everything,” Ron says. “Figured you’d want them.”

“Good. Michael won’t miss anything. I’m glad you and Harry have such a good, solid crew working on this. And thank you. That’s one thing off my list,” she murmurs, scratching through where she’d just written herself a note.

“We also have to try to find out who the children are; we didn’t find any records of names or ages in his personal desk, but his library had hundreds of books, so he might have hidden important documents there. I have an Auror searching every book. Harry’s also assigned an Unspeakable to the case, though we won’t know anything except results should he or she find a magically hidden compartment in the house. He doesn’t want to risk one of the Aurors missing something really developed.”

“It’s a smart idea, but it’s bothersome having an Unspeakable involved when it comes before the Wizengamot,” she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck as she looks at Ron. “If it’ll help, it’ll be worth the trouble, though.”

“Here’s a list of the personnel assigned to the case.” Ron passes a roll of parchment across the desk. “I included clerks and admin, too, because Harry wants to keep a tight hold on information right now.”

She nods. “Yes, he mentioned that. I’ll be sure to make Susan aware, just so she doesn’t accidentally say anything to Parvati when she goes home tonight.”

“Good idea.” Ron leans back in the chair and yawns. “Sorry. Been a long day. Think I could have Hugo tonight? I sort of need to see him after today.”

“I actually dropped by the Burrow after leaving Harry at Finnigan’s,” she admits. “And that’s fine. I’m sure he’d enjoy sleeping over. I’ll probably work late, then, and try to sort through the file as well as I can so far.”

“Great. I’ll get him from Mum’s after work, and drop him off in the morning. He’s got clean clothes on my flat. Stopping that question before you ask. Like I can’t do laundry or something.”

“Perhaps I ask it because of the number of times I’ve dropped Hugo by to see piles of dirty clothes waiting to be washed.”

“Twice. Two times and you make it sound like a hundred.”

“That’s two times too many.”

“You know, I’m not bringing up how many times I’ve dropped by the house to see weeds and leaves in the garden or noticed that the rug needed hoovering.”

“Point. However, Hugo isn’t going to wearing a rug or weeds.”

“No, he’s going to be wearing clean clothes that I washed myself.”

She smiles before studying him closely. He seems off this afternoon, more so than usual regardless of the case. “Are you really okay, Ron?” she asks softly, knowing how difficult it is for him to deal with dead people of any sort, much less children.

“As well as I can be considering,” he says simply. “I’ll be fine, Hermione. No need to worry about me. Are you okay?”

“As well as I can be considering,” she repeats with a wry smile. “Seriously, I’m better now. You know it just hits me hard at first, then I can adjust and focus. Warrington’s going to wish he’d never seen a child in his life by the time I’m through with him, of course, so plotting the destruction of a murdering abuser is a good distraction.”

“Of course he will. It’s why Harry threw a party in his office when he found out you were transferring to Magical Law all those years ago. If anyone can make the guilty suffer, it’s you.”

“Harry’s faith in my ability to make others suffer is something that I’m not at all sure is entirely complimentary.”

“So long as it’s directed at someone else, it is.” Ron smiles and stands up. “I’d better get back to work. I needed distance before I could focus again, though. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Always,” she promises. She stands up and gives him a hug before she kisses his cheek. “If Caroline’s back from lunch, would you ask her to come in here when you leave? And tell Teddy to go eat, since I doubt he has yet.”

“So bloody demanding,” he mutters, kissing her forehead before he nods. “Will do.”

As he leaves, she sits back down and makes a few notes of various things that have come to mind since lunch. When Caroline comes in, she asks her to get in touch with Kevin and Susan to set up a meeting at three. By then, she should have a grasp of the case and a rough outline written so she can get everyone on the same page. A soft knock draws her attention to the door. Teddy’s standing there and looks worried and sheepish both at the same time, which she isn’t sure she’s ever seen before.

“Ron said I had to go to lunch,” he says. “So, I’m running down the street for a sandwich. You want anything?”

“No thank you. Don’t run, Teddy. Take a real lunch break and enjoy your food before coming back,” she says firmly. “We have a meeting at three to discuss the latest case, and you’ll want to be focused for it.”

“It’s not like I meant to work through lunch,” he grumbles. “You don’t have to scold me like you’re my mum or have Ron treat me like a bloody kid.”

“I never told Ron to treat you any particular way, Lupin, and we established weeks ago that I wasn’t your mum,” she says patiently, though her tone is just sharp enough to warn him that she’s got little tolerance for whining today.

He frowns and shakes his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean---it’s just, first Harry and then Ron, acting like I’m two years old and need my nappy changed or something.”

“Harry and I were discussing how we humans are such silly creatures because we get into habits of seeing something in one particular way, and we have trouble accepting when it changes. They haven’t had an opportunity yet to adjust to the fact that you’re not one of the children anymore. They will, though. I did, after all.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He smiles slightly. “Don’t really care since you realized it, and that’s all that really matters. And, on that note, I’m heading to Pret-a-Manger. I’m craving a falafel wrap.”

“Oh, you’re going there?” She reaches for her pocketbook and removes a few pounds. “Will you bring me back a mango smoothie? That might make the afternoon tolerable.”

“Keep your money, Boss,” he says, refusing to accept the coins. “You look stressed, and it’s my duty as intern to make sure you relax.”

“Bribery won’t get you out of admin work,” she warns as she puts the coins back.

“No, but it makes you smile, so that‘s what‘s important,” he says simply before he turns and leaves, not even giving her a chance to get the last word. She scowls at the door and then laughs softly, shaking her head as she opens the file. Her smile fades when she concentrates and begins to write out notes for the afternoon meeting.


	24. Alleviation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy helps alleviate Hermione's stress

The afternoon passes by quickly. There is a lot to get accomplished by five, so Hermione wastes little time. By the time the meeting starts at three, she has an outline compiled along with other important information that she copies for everyone. It’s a productive meeting once everyone deals with the subject matter of their new case, and she knows she has a solid team supporting her for this one. After the meeting breaks, she returns to her office to focus on a few other files that need her attention.

Since Ron has Hugo tonight, she intends to work late and finish things to get them off her desk. Teddy offers to stay, and she considers accepting his help, but, in the end, she sends him on home. Most of what she has to do requires her attention, so there isn’t much she could have given him to work on. If she let him stay just to keep her company, she doubts she would get anything finished in a timely manner.

The Ministry is quiet by the time she finishes up her case notes on the last file. A glance at the clock shows that it’s after seven, so she’s pleased with her progress. Now that she has the three cases at a point where she can finish them easily or hand them off to someone else, she’s able to relax somewhat. The Warrington case will be demanding, without a doubt, but she’s more prepared for it now. If at all possible, she wants to limit her overtime to only the occasions when it’s absolutely necessary during the summer. Once the children are off to Hogwarts in September, though, she has little doubt that she’ll compensate for the silence at home by working long hours.

After she closes the file, she rubs the back of her neck and kneads the stress knot that has been there since lunch. Tonight is definitely going to be takeaway for dinner because she has no interest in cooking anything. Now that she’s finished, she finds herself wishing she’d asked Teddy to stay after all. It’s not a night when she particularly wants to be alone, but she can’t impose on Ron or Harry because they have their own lives. Would it be forward of her to drop by unannounced to see if Teddy’s had dinner yet? She’s so hungry that she can practically smell curry, so food needs to be a priority regardless.

It takes her a minute to realize that she _does_ smell curry. She frowns and glances around the office despite knowing that no one is there. The outer office, however, could be the maintenance wizard’s choice of dinner location, she assumes. If so, she’ll send a complaint because they have dining facilities and aren’t supposed to be using the offices. She stands up and walks to the doorway, wondering who would be bloody foolish enough to have dinner in a private office with light coming from next door.

“I wondered when you’d smell the food.”

The voice is a whisper from the shadows, and she tightens her grip on her wand even as she recognizes it. “So this is an experiment? Lurk in the dark holding curry to see how long my response time is?”

Teddy steps forward and grins. “Actually, I was hiding because I thought I heard someone in the hallway outside and didn’t want to get caught after I already left for the day. Reputations and all that.”

“It’s not particularly fair to use my own rules, such as they are, against me when I’m attempting to be firm and scolding.”

“Noted and most likely disregarded in the future. If you insist on having rules, they work both ways.”

“Brat. Did you really intend to hide until I smelled food?”

“No, silly woman. I was sitting at my flat and realized you’d probably work all night if someone didn’t give you a swat on the arse, so I figured I’m just the bloke to do it. The food is because I know how cranky you get when you’re hungry and how well food works as an enticement away from work.”

“You seem to have quite the fixation on my bum. I’m undetermined at this point in time whether or not this is a good thing.”

“I can make it a good thing.”

“Stop leering, Lupin. You look ridiculous.”

“Which means sexy in Hermione-speak.”

“Which means ridiculous in Hermione-speak.”

“You say ridiculous, I say sexy. And I’m the one with food and enough stubbornness to force you out of the office, so I win.”

“I daresay that I’m more stubborn than you, though this isn’t an appropriate time to test such a theory. Fortunate for you, I just finished the last of the cases I wanted to review tonight. I was actually contemplating where I wanted to get food and, uh, whether you’d possibly share it with me.”

“You were going to ask me out? On a date? Now, really, Hermione, I have to give fair warning that I’m not easy. I’d make you work for a word-I-can-actually-say-but-won’t-right-now.”

“As it is, we’ll never know if I’d have actually asked or not because you gave in first,” she points out smugly. She doesn’t mention that his annoying ability to remember that ‘kiss’ is an unspoken word in public is rather endearing.

“So I did,” he agrees. “Next time, I’ll hold out longer. So, finished with work?”

“I never finish, but I’m at the point where I intended to stop.”

“I figured you’d be done around seven. That seems to be the standard when it comes to overtime. And, uh, I don’t mean that in the crazy stalker way it must sound. I usually stay late, too, is all.”

“I’m not too concerned about you stalking me, Teddy. If you did, it wouldn’t take any time to figure it out because you’d be attempting to swat my bum.”

“Attempting? I’d be swatting,” he says confidently. “And it’s Ted, speaking of swats. That‘s, what, a hundred I owe you now?”

She rolls her eyes but smiles as she turns to walk back into her office. After the tense day she’s had, she welcomes time with Teddy and his inherent ability to make the world seem a little better. He can make her laugh and relax at the same time he makes her tense and hot, yet she hasn’t been able to figure out exactly how he manages it.

“We can take this to my place or yours,” he tells her. “Your choice, since I don’t really care. You’ll be there, and that’s the most important thing. And, God, whenever I start sounding like a pathetic girly tosser, you have permission to hex me, so long as it’s temporary and not painful.”

“Permission to hex?” She arches a brow and glances at him. “And what if I happen to like when you’re pathetic?”

“Hmm. Good question.” He walks up behind her and sets the bag of food on her desk in front of her. “Do you like when I act like a lovestruck fool?”

“Admitting that I did would be incriminating, wouldn’t it?” she asks, cringing when she hears how breathless she sounds. He runs his hands along her arms and brushes his lips against the curve where her neck meets her shoulders. “I like confidence and intelligence. The rest depends on my mood at any given time.”

“You’re so tense,” he whispers, ignoring her reply despite it taking great effort to achieve that prim tone she managed. “This case, it’s not one you can just leave at work, is it?”

“It’s too soon to leave it at work,” she corrects softly. “We should go now. My place, if you don’t mind. Just in case Hugo needs something, I want to be home.”

He sighs and kisses her neck as he wraps his arms around her, hugging her from behind. It feels good to be hugged, and she turns in his arms so she can move hers around him. The hug tightens, and it’s not sexual or foreplay or playing some silly game. It’s just them, and she grips him harder as she borrows some of his strength to get through the rest of the day.

Finally, she pulls back and looks up at him. “The food’s getting cold.”

“Right.” He sighs and reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear. With a teasing smile, he says, “And they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. They, whoever ‘they’ are, obviously haven’t met you.”

“I happen to like food,” she says simply. “If a handsome young man who is utterly besotted with me is the one with the food, it just improves on an already good situation.”

“Besotted? Rather confident, aren’t you? I‘ll forgive you because you said I was handsome.”

“You? Were we talking about you? I meant Carlo from Sports & Games.” A swat on her bum causes her to smack his arm.

“I’m the only handsome young man you should be concerned with,” he mutters sulkily. “Now gather your things so we can sneak out without being seen. I’m ready for dinner, and then, relaxing.”

“Yes, sir,” she quips, not bothering to tell him that it’s unlikely she’ll feel too relaxed tonight. The Warrington case will see to that, most likely. It’s nice having work caught up and spending the evening with Teddy, though, even if she’s still stressed.

“I rather like the sound of that,” he says, grinning as his brown hair changes to turquoise.

“In your dreams, Lupin.”

“Only some of them. In others, I’m happy being bossed.”

She blushes and scowls at him, but he just flashes a cheeky smile. She gathers her things and secures the Warrington file, taking an extra precaution due to Harry’s wish for secrecy right now. When she’s ready, they leave the office and manage to make it outside without running into anyone. Their exit will be documented, of course, but there’s no crime in working late. She does it enough that it doesn’t raise suspicion.

After they arrive at her house, she gets them juice while Teddy fixes their plates. The curry is spicy and the rice is stickier than it should be, but she’s starving, since she didn’t eat much during lunch, and the conversation and flirtation that accompanies dinner makes it highly enjoyable. As tempting as it is to just let go of Warrington, she still finds it impossible to do. A part of her mind runs through the case information and worries about the two victims who are barely alive and it nags at her even as she focuses on Teddy.

“You’re drifting again.”

“Sorry.” She looks at him and smiles wryly. “I did warn you that it wasn’t the best of nights for my company.”

“If I wanted some giggly vapid bird, I’d be dating someone my age,” he points out softly. “I don’t mind that you think a lot, Hermione. I find it attractive, actually. It’s just, tonight, I know what you’re thinking about, and it’s not good for you. You’re tense, even as you laugh and ogle me in that discreet way you think I don’t notice.”

“I don’t ogle you,” she denies, shifting in her chair as she frowns at the remains of her curry. Did she ogle him? If she did, she certainly would do so subtly enough that he wouldn’t notice, she’s sure.

“Yeah, you do. But that’s not the point, so quit getting sidetracked.”

“What _is_ the point? You’re attracted to me because I’m serious and think too much? That’s good since I always assumed it was for my sense of humor and beauty.”

“Why do you do that?” he asks quietly. “You manage to take a compliment and twist it until you’re insulting yourself. Did Ron---” He trails off as he runs his fingers through his dark purple hair.

“No, Ron didn’t,” she answers honestly, having a good idea what he intended to ask. “I can accept a compliment, Teddy. I’m not an insecure mess by any means. I am, however, realistic, and I’m honest about my faults as well as my strengths. I’m really quite brilliant when I apply myself, but I’m not comical or beautiful in a traditional sense. This doesn’t mean that I hate myself or any ridiculous such idea.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” he says with such sincerity that her tummy flutters as she stares at him. “I love your hair, how wild and unruly it is even when you manage to trap it into a braid, and your skin, how soft and warm it is whenever I touch you. Your eyes amaze me, so full of emotion that you don’t even have to speak for me to know how you’re feeling. And your lips. God, those lips have tempted me since before I even knew what temptation was.”

His words are lovely, but she feels uncomfortable because people just don’t say such things to her. She almost teases him about reading too many romance novels, yet she can’t bring herself to do so because she knows he’d be insulted. Sarcasm is a defense mechanism that she’s managed to not rely on so much over the years, but it’s still her failsafe when she feels like she’s in over her head.

He blushes and ducks his head, shifting in his chair as he fiddles with his fork. “I, uh, didn’t mean to actually say that, but I’m not apologizing because it’s how I feel, even if you don’t like hearing stuff like that.”

“It’s, um, it’s okay.” She grimaces at how idiotic she sounds and nudges his leg with her foot. “Maybe you should balance it with some of my flaws, just so I don’t become conceited.”

“Ah, I don’t know if we have enough time for me to list those,” he teases softly, grinning up at her as his hair falls across his eyes. “I could start with stubborn and lead into opinionated to the extreme and move into bossy beyond all measure and that segues into your hatred of being wrong and not getting the last word.”

“Good. At least you know the real me, warts and all,” she murmurs, relieved that he acknowledges some of her worst traits. She doesn’t want him building her up as some childhood fantasy, even if she doesn’t think he’s doing that.

“I haven’t seen any warts, and I’ve inspected your body fairly well over the past weeks,” he points out. “I suppose such an allegation of unsightly blemishes means that I need a more thorough look, however.”

“That’s a very pitiable excuse to get me naked, Lupin. I expected better.”

“If I just wanted to get you naked, Granger-Weasley, I’d use a charm and be done with it.”

She snorts and shakes her head. “Incorrigible.” She refuses to accept that her tone is complimentary instead of scolding. She stands up and reaches for his plate. “I’m going to tidy up the kitchen since we’re done. Would you like to stay over tonight?”

“To be used for hot, mind-blowing sex by a sexy older woman who makes me drool?” he asks hopefully.

“You shouldn’t sound so eager to be used,” she says dryly. “And drooling isn’t very attractive, you know?”

“Point. However, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make whenever I ogle you.” He follows her into the kitchen and moves behind her. When he grips her neck and kneads the tense spot with his strong hands, she whimpers and considers offering him almost anything if he continues.

“God, that feels good,” she mutters, gripping the counter as he begins to massage her neck and shoulders. “Do I want to know where you learned that?”

“Dil taught me about muscles and massage. And not in _that_ way, so don’t even start. He plays Quidditch, and took an interest.”

“I bet he did,” she says, having little doubt that Dil did consider him in _that_ way at one point or another because, really, how could anyone not?

“I actually have to confess to something.”

“Oh?”

“I had another idea this evening when I decided to buy dinner and force you to stop working. For relaxing.”

“Really?” She glances over her shoulder and sees his sheepish smile, curious what he had in mind. “You do realize that you’re not supposed to admit to scheming whenever you’re trying to control a situation, right?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m not very good at the whole sneaky thing. It’s why I didn’t wear green and silver for seven years. One reason, at least.”

“Okay. Just checking. I’m far better at being sneaky than you, which is good because I like having the upper hand.”

“Oi! Stop talking and let me persuade you to try to relax,” he says, tweaking her breast lightly.

“Keep doing that and I’ll shove your wand somewhere highly uncomfortable,” she warns, swatting at his hand as he reaches for her breast again.

“Ow. Noted.” He drops his hand and rests it on her hip, where he edges it higher until he’s snuck it beneath her shirt. “Um, relaxing?”

“I suppose I can hear your idea, at least.” She shifts slightly and bites her lip as his hand moves higher along her ribs. When she feels his fingers trace her scar, she sighs.

“A bath.”

“What?” She blinks at him, uncertain she heard correctly. “A bath?”

“With bubbles. It’ll calm you and make you relaxed enough to sleep well tonight without thinking about that awful case. I hope.”

“A bubble bath?” she repeats dumbly.

“You don’t have to say it like that. It’s a good idea. Trust me.”

“I do trust you, but I don’t see where a bath is going to miraculously make me serene and less stressed.”

“That’s because you’ve never had a bath with me,” he says smugly, reaching up to caresse her breast as he kisses her firmly. The kiss is unexpected, but she’s soon kissing him back, twisting her body around to try to face him. He pulls back and smiles. “I’ll finish up here. Go on upstairs and get your bathing things together. I’ll be right up.”

He’s certainly being bossy tonight, she thinks with a frown. However, she’s enjoying the distraction, so she doesn’t protest. That much. “Say please.”

“Please.”

“Good. You’re learning.” Before he can say anything, she hurries out of the room, smug in getting the last word. She goes upstairs and gets clean knickers and her nightclothes before she looks at the fabric. Teddy’s staying over and they’re taking a bath. It’s rather silly to get clothes she likely won’t need, so she puts them away before she undresses. Once she’s naked, she walks into the bathroom and sits on the seat of the toilet, primly crossing her legs and folding her arms across her breasts.

When Teddy enters the room, he stops short at the sight of her. There’s definitely a moment of gaping as he shifts and stares. She casually drops her arms and sighs in a way that makes her breasts bounce more than normal as she uncrosses her legs.

“I was starting to get impatient,” she informs him in a prissy tone.

“You’re going to kill me,” he mutters in a tone that makes her smirk. It’s fun to surprise him, since there are times when she feels like an awkward teenager and not at all sensual and experienced, so she likes giving him these little reminders.

“Are you planning to start the bath or stand there and stare at me all night?”

He sticks his tongue out at her before he pulls his shirt off. He flexes in a way draws her attention to his arms and hipbones, and she licks her lips as she admires the way his muscles move. “Staring isn’t polite,” he points out in a haughty tone as he leans forward to start the tap. “You’re lucky that I don’t mind when you’re rude.”

“I’m honest enough to admit that I enjoy your body. You’re fit and tight and I love your hipbones,” she says simply.

“You’re so weird,” he says with a grin.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. “Says the man who has a fetish for my lower back.”

“Fetish makes it sound dirty. I prefer fixation on the area above the swell of your arse that has three freckles and baby fine hair that tickles my lips whenever I kiss it,” he tells her. “I also like the way you moan and writhe beneath me from said kiss.”

“Hmph.” She reaches out and pinches his hipbone, groping just a little, though she’ll deny it if he accuses her of it. He doesn’t do anything except laugh and swat her bare bum before he adds something to the bath. “Where did you get that?”

“I, uh, brought it from home,” he admits, blushing faintly as he adds more bath crystals. The water begins to develop suds, and she admires the iridescent bubbles that smell like cinnamon, of all things. “Don’t say a word.”

“I wasn’t going to. I’m glad you prepared for your scheme well enough to remember those, because I don’t think I could steal Hugo’s colored bubble crystals for the purpose of whatever nefarious plans you have in mind.”

“My plans are honorable and chivalrous,” he declares, offering her his hand. “They’re designed to help you relax and have a peaceful evening. If I happen to get off, too, well, that’s merely an added bonus.”

“Cheeky brat.”

“And you love it,” he says, kissing her soundly before he indicates that she should sit down.

She submerges herself in the water, feeling the bubbles tickle her skin as she gets comfortable. “Don’t you need to finish getting undressed?”

“I’m not getting in the bath yet.” At her arched brow, he smiles. “This is for you, Hermione. I might be an oversexed twenty year old with an almost constant erection around you, but I can control myself.”

“Noted. However, I’m now tempted to do my best at some point in the future to make you lose that control.”

“Gladly. Tonight is yours, though.” He picks up the bottle of body wash from the shelf above her and unwraps the cord of her wash sponge from where she hangs it around the shower head. Once he finally gets it untangled, he kneels beside the bath and starts to wash her. 

It feels amazing, and she’s not even embarrassed by the whimpers and sighs she makes as he drags the sponge over her skin. He alternates between washing her and massaging her, easing out the tension until all that’s left is a pile of pliable flesh that she’s surprised doesn’t cause her to slip underwater. The Warrington case is still on her mind, but it’s easy to lose herself in Teddy and this bath for now. 

When he stands up and unfastens his trousers, she watches his suds covered hands turn the fabric wet. He’s hard and throbbing, yet he doesn’t get into the tub with her. Instead, he drops the sponge on the rim of the tub and moves his hand beneath the water. “Just relax for me,” he murmurs as he rubs her leg. He eases his hand higher and higher until his fingers brush against her cunt. She’s aroused from the sponge, which he made sure to use to his advantage as well as washing her. Her nipples are hard and tingling, bubbles nipping at them as she shifts in the warm water.

He moves his fingers through her hair, brushing it gently as he slides two fingers into her. She gasps and arches her back, pushing down against his hand as he kisses her face and neck. He moves his fingers slowly at first, teasing her and making her whine before he picks up speed and depth. She feels his mouth on her nipple, sucking hard as he rubs her clit with his thumb. She looks down to see him leaning over the rim, bubbles against his face and in his dark green hair as he licks and sucks and touches her until she cries out.

He raises his head and watches her as she comes, moving his fingers deeper as he whispers nonsensical words at her. Or, at least, they’re nonsense to her as she shudders and splashes water onto the floor. When she finally stops trembling and reaches beneath the water to push his hand away, he withdraws his fingers. She blinks at him and smiles a lazy, sated smile. “God.”

“Yeah,” he says huskily. His low tone makes her realize she’s been selfish, since he’s not even had a chance to touch himself yet.

“Your turn,” she demands softly, rolling onto her side and resting her arm on the side of the tub. She puts her chin on her arm and peers over the edge, staring at his erection as it bobs around when he shifts. “Stand up?”

“Fuck,” he mutters, reaching his wet hand down to stroke himself. “You don’t have---”

“I want to,” she says firmly as she gets to her knees. He stares at her, mostly at her breasts, she realizes, and she has to smile before she gets forceful. “Now stand up, Teddy.”

He obeys without any more protest, and she leans up to take the head of his cock into her mouth. He makes a gurgled moan that tells her he’s enjoying himself, so she begins to lick and suck as she moves her head. While some women dislike giving oral sex, she surprisingly enjoys it. Well, once she adjusts to having something this big in her mouth and as long as she rests so her jaw doesn’t get sore. But if her partner is considerate, and both of the two she’s had have been, it’s quite thrilling to have so much control. 

After sucking solidly for a little while, with a couple of breaks to kiss and stroke and lick, it just takes a long slow lick along the underside of Teddy’s cock as she caresses his bollocks for him to reach his peak. He grunts and warns her before he tenses and spills into her mouth. She swallows as she pulls back, moving her hand along him as he keeps coming and drips his spunk into the bathwater and onto her breasts.

“God. That was---”

“Yeah,” she agrees. She reaches for the sponge and wipes off her chest before she stands up and uses the shower to rinse off. Water gets onto the floor, but it’s already a mess, so she’s past the point of wanting to be meticulous. Teddy is sitting on the seat of the toilet watching her, his limp cock resting against his hard thigh as he looks at her.

“I love watching you move,” he explains with a sheepish smile. “You’re so precise and focused but there’s a sensuality to even the most tedious chore.”

“Now who’s weird?” she asks, picking up her wand and using it to clean the floor and dry it. Once she’s finished, she smiles at Teddy. “I hate to admit it, but it worked.”

“Hmm?” He stands up and walks over to her, pulling her close so he can kiss her. When he pulls back from the kiss, he grins. “What worked?”

“Your scheme. You might not be sneaky, but you’re certainly clever.”

“Ah, right. Well, I’d rather be clever any day.” He steps out of the bedroom so she can use the toilet then goes in after her. While he’s cleaning up, she puts on Teddy's T-shirt, which she nicked when he stayed the night recently and has since claimed as her new nightshirt, and then turns down the bed. It’s been a rough day, and she could use snuggling and rest.

“Bed?” she asks when he steps out of the bathroom.

“Sounds good to me. It was a long day,” he says as he hugs her from behind.

“Yes, it was,” she agrees softly. They crawl into bed, and she curls up against him before she extinguishes the candles. The room is dark, and he’s warm and strong, so she finds it easy to just relax for a few hours before reality intrudes once again.


	25. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron needs to talk to Hermione

It’s obvious that Griselda Marchbanks woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Normally, Hermione admires the eldest member of the Wizengamot for being the first witch to be part of the Department of Magical Law over a century ago and making way for generations of witches since to have a chance at equality in all areas of the Wizarding world. Today, however, she’s contemplating the possibility of dosing Marchbanks’ coffee with a dreamless sleep potion to get her to stop talking.

The case is open and shut. The defendant already plead guilty, and the terms of his punishment were discussed in depth over the last couple of weeks. It shouldn’t have taken more than an hour, tops, to go before the Wizengamot, present the case, receive their approval, and remove one more file from her overcrowded desk. Instead, it has been three hours of Marchbanks asking the most inane questions that don’t even pertain to the case. At nearly two hundred years old, there’s always a chance that Marchbanks has reached a point where her mind isn’t quite as sharp as it should be, but Hermione knows the woman well after more than a decade of trying cases before her and the others. She’s still in her right mind; she’s just cranky today and making the rest of the world pay for it.

When approval is finally given for the defendant to undergo counseling in the Department of Mental and Social Health at St. Mungos and pay a fine, it’s lunch time. The entire morning has been spent grinding her teeth while waiting for the farce of a trial to conclude, and now she’ll not have any time in her office unless she skips lunch. Marchbanks has managed to make her cranky now, which is quite a feat considering the fact that she didn’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

In fact, she woke up on Teddy’s chest, which is really a wonderful way to start the morning. Not even the latest update on the Warrington case could completely ruin her mood, though it did dishearten her some. It took Marchbanks playing dumb and asking dozens of questions that were irrelevant to spoil her day. As she leaves the courtroom, she glares at the empty chairs for good measure.

“I’m glad I’m not one of those chairs.”

At the comment, Hermione looks up to see Ron standing by the door. The courtroom is empty, so he must be waiting on her, though he didn’t mention anything about meeting her after court. “Be glad you’re not Marchbanks,” she says with a grimace.

“Is that what took so long? I dropped by your office at nine and Caroline said you had court but shouldn’t be very long. When I went back at noon, she said you were still down here.”

“Don’t even get me started,” she warns, shaking her head as she walks towards him. “Did you need something? Did you find out something about Warrington?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yes to what?”

“Yes, I need something. No, we don’t have anything new in the case yet.”

“What do you need?” He blinks at her tone and seems taken aback, which she didn’t intend. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound sharp. It’s just been a long morning already.”

“I need to talk to you. I mean, we can have lunch, yeah?”

The last time Ron said ‘I need to talk’ in that confused but determined voice, he told her he was dating Mel. It’s much too soon for him to have proposed, isn’t it? Even Ron would need more time before taking such a big step, especially with the children involved. Oh God, what if he’s suddenly decided he’s too old to live alone or likes that Mel washes his shorts and cooks well or some other excuse he can use to get married and not be lonely anymore?

“Lunch. Right. Okay,” she finally says, wishing she could lie and claim a meeting or something important that needs done for work. But it’s Ron, and she can’t lie to him. Avoid the truth, certainly, but not outright lie.

“Good. Let’s go,” he says firmly, nodding in emphasis.

“I have to drop this off at my office first and check in with Caroline,” she points out.

“She was going to lunch when I went by. So was Teddy.”

“Oh, honestly, Ronald. Quit acting as if there’s some dire reason why I can’t go by my office,” she mutters as they start up the stairs to catch the lift.

“Don’t start, Hermione. It’s just a bloody file. You carry files to lunch all the time for work, so this is no different. We need to go now because it’s important. And I’m ready. And I don’t need anything to distract us and make me lose my bloody nerve.”

“Language,” she says with a frown. “Nerve?”

“I’m not saying another word until we leave this building,” he says stubbornly.

It’s the tone of voice that annoyed her to death while they were married, and now it serves as a reminder of one of many reasons they had to separate. She’s stubborn, too, and has many faults, probably more than Ron if she’s being completely honest, but the fact that she became unable to indulge him when he was like this was part of the irrevocable truth of falling out of love.

“When you threaten someone, _Ronald_ , you should ensure that the threat is something they’d not want,” she says pointedly.

He makes a motion over his lips and shakes his head, humming awkwardly as he refuses to speak.

“And now we have you displaying behavior that would even make Hugo appear childish,” she mutters. She’s cross and irritated, which, added to her morning, does not put her in good spirits at all. “Bloody bastard.”

He hums something that sounds remarkably like ‘language’ and smirks, knowing full well her only choices are to ignore him and not find out what’s so important or give in and let him win. It’s so very tempting to just wash her hands of him and remind herself they’re divorced and he’s Mel’s problem now.

There are times she loathes her curiosity and need to know as much as possible. “Fine. We’ll leave now,” she says in a sharp tone as they step onto the lift. She ignores him during the ride to the lobby and walks ahead of him as they leave the Ministry. If he can behave like a child, she can certainly behave like a swotty teenager and still be more mature than him.

When they get outside, she starts walking towards Finnigan’s, but he grabs her arm to stop her. “Not there,” he says.

“Oh, you’ve finally remembered how to speak, have you?”

“I didn’t forget. I just chose not to do it for a few minutes. You should be proud, considering all the times you accused me of never being able to shut up.”

“It’s funny that you can remember that yet never could remember our anniversary or my birthday.”

“Just talented, I guess,” he says with a shrug. He frowns and runs his hand over the top of his head, leaving his hair in disarray. “Look, can we start over? I don’t---we don’t need anger between us. There’s already enough that’s fucked up with everything else.”

“Don’t think that a rare display of maturity makes up for you refusing to speak.” She frowns but nods once. “But fine. No anger. And do please try to learn alternate words for fuck because I do not want Hugo to go around imitating your vocabulary. If we‘re not eating at Finnigan‘s, where are we going?”

“My flat?”

She blinks at him and shifts uncomfortably. “Your flat?”

“Not for _that_ ,” he says, gaping at her. “Bloody hell. I’m not---we’re not---it’s been years since we did that!”

“Yes, well, the last time you suggested lunch at your flat included _that_ ,” she reminds him. She has no interest in revisiting that element of their relationship, even if it did last longer than their marriage.

“I also wasn’t dating Mel and, fuck, it was years ago, before the divorce was final,” he points out, blushing beneath his freckles as he continues to gape at her.

“What?” she snaps. “You suggest lunch at your flat and you’re behaving oddly, so it’s little surprise that I’d be suspicious.”

“It _is_ a surprise that you’d think of that instead of many other logical reasons I might suggest somewhere private for a talk. You and logic are usually joined at the brain.”

“Forgive me for not being so clever when my morning has been spent listening to Marchbanks drone on and now you’re acting like you’ve stepped out of some silly Muggle film on the telly.”

“Oh, bugger it all,” he says before he grabs her and Apparates them to his flat. When they arrive, he lets her go and grabs her wand from her robe. “No hexing. We’d have stood there all day arguing if I hadn’t done something.”

“Give me my wand, Ronald.”

“Only if you promise not to use it on me or leave.”

“I don’t need a wand to make you suffer.”

“Oh, right. Well, fuck.” He hands her the wand and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. This, uh, it’s awkward and going worse than I expected, and I had really low expectations, so that says something.”

She glares at him but finally puts her wand back in her pocket. “Should I sit down for this talk? You’re, uh, you’re not getting married, are you?”

“What?” he asks, almost gurgling as he stares at her. “No. God no. Not ready…not for awhile…if ever…God. Where did that come from?”

“Just asking,” she says, shrugging before she walks to his sofa and sits. If she’s going to miss lunch because he’s decided they need to have a talk, she’ll at least be comfortable. “So, what is it then?”

He pulls his chair closer to the sofa and sits down, tapping his foot as he looks at her. He starts to speak then closes his mouth. After sitting there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes, he gets up and begins to pace. Finally, he turns towards her and asks, “Are you bloody mental?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks and frowns at him.

“That didn’t come out the way I meant but, God, Hermione. This has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and I include going on a date with McClaggen in that list.”

“What _are_ you going on about?” She hates when he’s vague and acts as if she should somehow understand Ron-speak, which is incomprehensible at the best of times.

“You and Teddy.”

She feels her tummy twist as she stares at him. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if she’s just displayed proof that the color really can fade from someone’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says simply. It’s best not to incriminate herself when she has no idea what Ron knows. How would Ron know anything? She hasn’t said or done anything that could make him think she’s having an affair with Teddy.

“Just don’t,” he says firmly. “I’m not an idiot. I also know you better than even Harry does, despite your little silent communication thing with him. I was married to you for fifteen years, and I _know_ you.”

“How long have you known?” She sighs and runs her hand over her face, hating the way he’s looking at her as if accusing her of something evil.

“I thought something was off when I came back from my holiday with Hugo, but it’s been little things since that made me realize who and then I thought I had to be wrong because, fuck, he’s a kid! You’re shagging Harry’s Godson! Do you have any idea how wrong that is? It’s just---I knew I had to be imagining things but it kept nagging at me and nagging until yesterday when I watched you go to him, like you used to go to me, and you almost hugged him. Then, I knew.”

“He’s not a child, and there’s nothing wrong with it! We’re consenting adults, despite the age difference, and this isn’t something I entered into on a whim, Ron. I thought about it before I ever did it,” she points out. She resents feeling as if she has to defend herself, but she can’t just allow him to make such claims without saying something in return.

“Nothing wrong with it? Hermione, we used to babysit him! I’ve changed his nappies, and now he’s shagging my wife!”

“I’m not your wife anymore.”

“How could you?” he asks, pacing and cursing under his breath. “Are you that lonely? That desperate?”

She stands up and slaps him hard, enjoying the moment before she feels guilty. He stares at her in surprise and hurt, and she drops her hand. “Don’t ever speak to me that way, Ron. You haven’t in decades, and there’s no way I’ll let you start now. We’re not children anymore.”

“No, but you’re fucking one.” He cringes and curses again as he rubs his cheek. “God, I didn’t want to fight. I just---you didn’t tell me, and I had to know if I was right. And I don’t see how you could ever think this is a good idea.”

“Ted is twenty years old, and more mature than most men twice his age,” she says quietly. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Couldn’t stop yourself? I’d believe that the first time, because he’s an attractive bloke and probably charmed your knickers off with a smile and flirty words, but all the other times? Is it just sex? You let him stay over? Does Hugo have any idea?”

“How do you know that I didn’t charm him?” she asks, sitting back down as she pulls her legs up beneath her robe and rests her feet on the edge of the sofa. “Hugo doesn’t know. Even before Ted and I became intimate, he would come over sometimes, so nothing has changed as far as Hugo is aware. And, no, it isn’t just sex.”

“He’s twenty and was dating our much-sought-after-by-blokes-with-grabby-hands niece, Hermione. That’s how I know he charmed you. Probably sees you as some conquest, the bloody bastard. Beautiful divorcee just ripe for seducing, so he can brag to his mates about getting a leg over on a hot older bird.”

“He’s not you, Ron,” she points out softly. “He isn’t the type to brag nor would he ever consider me in such crude terms. Nor am I particularly beautiful in the way you seem to think makes me attractive to younger men wishing to prove themselves or some nonsense, though I do appreciate you thinking I am.”

“I was a twenty year old man once. I know how they think and what they usually think _with_ ,” he says. “If I hadn’t been in love with you when I was that age, I’d have been completely into the idea of being some hot older woman’s sex toy.” He hesitates and drops his gaze to the floor as he shuffles his feet. “And I know he’s not me. Doesn’t have much in common with me at all. Not really sure why you’d be attracted to him…or to me, if he’s what your type really is.”

It’s impossible to deal with Ron when he runs hot and cold and changes moods so quickly that she can’t keep up. In the span of minutes, he’s gone from shouting to snarling to being slapped to worrying about her virtue to vulnerable. It gives her a headache, and she’s still in shock that he’s figured it out when she tried so hard to keep it a secret.

What if others know? Does Harry? He knows her nearly as well as Ron, but he hasn’t had the opportunity that Ron has to gather clues. God, why do her best friends have to be puzzle-solving Aurors? No, if Harry knew he wouldn’t have quietly stewed and waited until he had to erupt like Ron. He’d have confronted her immediately. He isn’t patient enough to wait, after all. She looks up at Ron and bites her lip.

“I really like him,” she whispers. He glances up and his shoulders slump as he sits back down. “And I know I shouldn‘t. I really did try to fight it at first, but who says it’s wrong? I mean, we’re both old enough to make our own choices and no one is getting hurt.”

“It’s wrong because, well, fuck. I don’t know,” he mutters, leaning his head forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “He’s so young, Hermione. And he’s practically family and we changed his nappies.”

“Yes, I know all that, but he’s not like most twenty year olds, and he’s not family and he doesn’t wear nappies anymore.”

“How can it be more than sex? You’ve got a generation separating you, and you’ve always been mature for your age,” he points out quietly. His anger has gone and now he just looks hurt and confused.

“I can’t even explain it, but it works. And, honestly, I shouldn’t have to explain it. If I were a man and he was an attractive young woman the same age, very few people would even blink at the idea of us being together. It’s not fair that I have to defend myself just because of the gender reversal.”

“Don’t. The big words and ideals aren’t what this is about, not to me. I’m worried that he’s using you, and you’re going to get hurt and I’ll have to kill him, which will annoy Harry and it’s best to avoid doing that since he’s nearly as scary as you. And, God, I don’t know. He’s not like me at all!”

“Calling me mental and implying that I'm an immoral pervert who’s pram-snatching is your idea of comfort?” She shakes her head. “Teddy isn’t like you, but Mel isn’t like me, either. Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“More than I realized,” he whispers, giving her a crooked smile as he reaches out to take her hand. “I don’t like it. I don’t trust him because I know what it’s like at that age, and you’re vulnerable, even if you’re so very strong. The thing is, I’m not only your ex-husband, I’m your best friend, too, which means I’m completely fucked right now because I’m being torn in a dozen different ways, and I’m so bloody sorry if this is how you feel when I talk to you about Mel, because it’s horrible.”

“My affair with Teddy is a mutual agreement to explore the possibility and see what happens. We’ve kept it a secret because, honestly, neither of us wants to deal with outside drama before we even know if there’s something real there,” she explains softly. “We don’t take it to work, and I’m not letting it affect the children. He and I are just trying to see if the chemistry we couldn’t deny actually means anything or if it’s just going to burn out after a brief relationship.”

“You don’t do casual. I swear, if that prat has used some sensitive ‘I’m a soulful bloke’ act on you to get into your knickers, I’m going to hurt him and, uh, obliviate him after cause I’m smart enough to be prepared.”

“It’s not casual, but it doesn’t mean that it’s not temporary,” she says honestly. “And you can stop strategizing the best way to beat him up and get away clean because it’s unnecessary.” She bites her lip again as she tries to make sense of the last half hour. “Is it obvious?”

“To me? Yes. To anyone else? No,” he tells her. “You’re good at being subtle, and you don’t bring personal to work, even when we were married. I just know the smiles and way your eyes soften and all the other little things in your personal language that no one else understands.”

She’s relieved that it isn’t apparent to everyone, though she feels foolish for never considering Ron’s personal knowledge of her. She suspected about Mel even before he admitted he was seeing someone, after all, and he’s always been rather observant when something interests him. “It’s nice still sharing that language with you, even if it’s different now,” she murmurs as she squeezes his hand. “I know you don’t approve of it, Ron, but can you keep it private?”

“It’s not that I don’t approve. Okay, maybe it is. I just, if you had to move on, I wish it was with someone I knew wouldn’t hurt you and wasn’t so much trouble. I mean, Teddy’s a good bloke, but I’ve thought about this since I started suspecting it, and people _are_ going to do all that gender issue nonsense you were talking about, and I don’t want you dealing with that or for the kids to be forced to endure it for someone who isn’t serious and committed to you.”

“I know. That’s one of many issues surrounding the entire relationship,” she admits softly. “If he were older, it wouldn’t be so complicated. There’d still be the issue of his closeness to the family, but that isn’t nearly as negative as the age difference. I don’t know what’s going to happen, Ron. It could end tomorrow or it could reach a point where we have to seriously discuss what the future might hold. For now, it’s taking a chance and enjoying a little happiness while we can. Can’t you just accept that?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he says finally. “But you have to tell Harry, Hermione. It’s his Godson, and they’re close like family, and he deserves to know, even if it doesn’t change your choice. And I’m going to keep an eye on Teddy because I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”

“I don’t need an overprotective best friend. Besides, there’s probably more of a chance that I’d hurt Teddy than he’d hurt me. I’ll tell Harry if it becomes more than temporary. There’s no point getting him involved if it ends naturally,” she says. “I hate sneaking around and not being completely honest, but it’s necessary right now because I’m not sure how things will go.”

He squeezes her hand and leans forward to kiss her cheek. “I didn’t mean to yell and rant, but I’m still questioning your judgment and mental faculties right now."

"There's no need to question anything. I'm a big girl, and I'm strong enough to handle the consequences for any choices that I make, even those you disagree with."

"I do disagree," he admits. "I think it's a bad choice, but it's your life so I won’t nag you about it. Nagging's your job, anyway. But, if it becomes something that affects the children, I _will_ become involved. Understood?"

"I only nag because I care." She nods and moves her thumb around his. "Understood. The children are my priority, Ron, and nothing has changed, or will change, that."

"I know. Just saying it all official and on the record so you can't hex me if it does come up." He smiles wryly as he says, "And, if he ends up hurting you, I’ve got strong arms that hug real well. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, reaching out to hug him. “And I didn’t mean to slap you, but you were being infuriating and rude.”

“Probably deserved it. I was out of line.”

“Another display of maturity isn’t going to make me forget your accusation that I’m mental.”

“Will sandwiches?” he asks with a cheeky grin. “I did promise you lunch, after all.”

“Yes, you did,” she agrees. “They might help.”

He gets up and goes into the kitchen, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Ron knows. He knows and doesn’t approve but he’s willing to sort of accept it, for now. It’s funny that she’s been worried about someone finding out since it started, but she actually never thought ahead enough to predict what reactions might be because she knows there are too many variables to consider for an accurate guess. 

She has no basis of comparison for Ron’s reaction beyond her worst case scenario of everyone hating her and calling her foul names. He doesn’t hate her, but it’s obviously difficult for him to agree to keep quiet and let her live her life, since he seems to think she’s making a mistake. However, she knows that her affair with Teddy isn’t bad judgment, so Ron can have whatever opinion he wants. It certainly doesn’t make it true. 

What worries her the most is that Ron’s reaction could be the most positive compared to everyone else, which causes her to dwell on the issues she generally lets linger around her and Teddy without trying to think about them too much. There are too many things in her head right now, and she’s still somewhat in shock after being found out and confronted with such a range of emotions, so she focuses on the sound of Ron making sandwiches and does her best not to panic now that someone actually knows their secret.


	26. Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione & Teddy discuss Ron and the events of the day

Ron knows.

It’s been nearly ten hours since Hermione learned that fact, and she’s still not entirely certain what to think about it. Work kept her so busy that there wasn’t time to think about the awkward lunch. Then she had to race to the Burrow to pick up Hugo, already late because her meetings ran long, and the evening has been spent playing cards with her son and losing dreadfully. Now that Hugo’s asleep, though, she can finally sit and breathe and try to figure out this mess called her life.

Only, now that she has free time, she finds herself unable to sit and focus. She can still hear Ron’s accusation that she's mental and see the obvious concern in his expression as he confidently said Teddy was using her. Since she knows Teddy better than he does, even if she doesn't know everything about him, she’s fully aware that Ron’s just projecting his own personality onto him, which isn’t fair at all. While Ron spent most of his early twenties thinking with one particular head, Teddy isn’t that way. They spend more time talking and just enjoying each other than they do shagging, anyway.

There wasn’t time to tell Teddy about her conversation with Ron, and she’s not exactly sure what to say. She has to let him know, of course, but she doesn’t want to deal with explaining how layered her relationship with Ron is if he doesn’t understand how Ron could figure it out. She doesn’t even know if she _can_ explain it, really, because it’s one of those things that has been building since long before she ever thought to analyze it, and, at this point, there are too many moving parts to list.

Now, there’s also another worry that’s come back to the forefront of her mind: telling Harry. A part of her wants to put it off indefinitely, using the excuse of not knowing if this is just a passing interest and not wanting to upset Harry’s life if it is, yet she knows it’s far worse if she doesn’t tell him and he finds out somehow. Even if it doesn’t last more than a brief time, Harry will find out eventually, probably from Ron who isn't going to go telling him, but might very well let slip enough, and it’s better if he hears it from her. In another week or five.

God, she’s pathetic. Harry is either going to accept it, perhaps reluctantly like Ron, or he’ll be angry. It’s not like putting it off is going to change his reaction, though procrastinating might make it worse. The whispers and gossip of strangers don’t bother her very much, as she had to develop a thick skin many years ago and distance herself from caring what people thought of her, but Harry’s like her brother, and he and Ron are the most important people in her life besides the children. If Harry doesn’t approve and can’t accept it, she honestly has no idea what she’ll do. So, maybe she’s being a coward by putting off the reality of having to actually face his opinion, but she’s never claimed to be perfect.

“Ron knows.”

Hermione frowns at the window pane and wonders if hearing voices is possibly an indication that Ron’s allegations are accurate. No, she’s certain she’d know if she were going mental. Wouldn’t she? She’s been thinking too much, obviously, because she’s now hearing her thoughts spoken in an empty room.

“Did you hear me?”

Or maybe not so empty after all. She turns away from the window she’s been staring out of and blinks in surprise when she sees Teddy standing in the doorway of her bedroom. “Teddy? What are you doing here?” she asks in a low voice. Hugo went to bed after nine, but there’s still a chance he might be awake.

“Nice to see you, too,” he mutters as he enters the room. He closes the door and casts a muffling charm before he leans against the wall. “I had to see you. I know it’s late and Hugo’s here, but I Apparated outside, so he wouldn’t hear, and I, uh, brokeyourwindowbutfixeditwhenIwasinside.”

“You what?” She blinks at him and then looks more closely. “Oh my God, what’s happened to you?”

“Ron knows,” he says slowly, speaking to her as if she's a child.

“Yes, you’ve said that several times now,” she points out as she crosses the room to reach him. “That doesn’t answer my question, however. Your lip is bleeding and that eye looks dreadful.”

“Bloody hell, Hermione. Stop fussing over my lip and listen to me. Ron. Knows. About. Us.”

“I know,” she tells him, glaring slightly as he swats her hand away from his bruised eye. She narrows her eyes suddenly and frowns. “Wait, how do you know?”

“You knew?” He frowns and looks her over quickly. “If he hurt you, I’ll kill him.”

“Ron wouldn’t hurt me. Not physically and not any other way if he could help it.” She shakes her head slightly because she feels like she’s two steps behind the conversation, which she hates. He surprised her, though, and her mind was elsewhere, so it’s just taking her a moment to focus. “Did he do this?”

Teddy sighs and shifts awkwardly before he nods. “Yeah, but, uh, it maybe was partially my fault. I should know better than to provoke a brute who prefers fists to wit.”

“Sit down and tell me what happened,” she demands, giving him a look normally reserved for the children or Harry when she’s tired of them being evasive.

“Bossy wench,” he mutters even as he obeys. He sits on the bed and runs his fingers through his dark purple hair. “You were late back to the office, and I didn’t really have any reason to stay since I wasn’t sure if you’d stop by or just go home from your last meeting, so I went by Finnigan’s for a pint and dinner before I went home. Wasn’t home that long before I had a visitor.”

“Ron.”

“Of course. Had no idea why he was there, but I was worried something had happened to you, so I let him in. Then, well, he started going off and accusing me of really terrible things. Said I was using you and a bunch of other nonsense, though he did get the sexy older woman thing right. He wouldn’t listen to me at all and just kept yelling and ranting and calling me a kid until I, uh, provoked him.”

“Provoked him?” she repeats slowly as she sits on the bed beside him. “When did you decide that it was smart to goad an angry Auror who is rather known for having a temper over taking time to talk sensibly?”

“Probably wasn’t smart, but I was sick of sitting in my own flat listening to him ridicule me and insinuate that I was scheming to hurt you and a lot of other lies that he seems to find me capable of. I was fucking tired of being treated like a villain out to seduce the poor divorcee who is too vulnerable to resist my many charms. Not only that, but if I heard him say ‘you stupid kid’ one more time, I’m not sure what I would have done.”

She bites her lip and reaches out to gently touch the swollen skin beneath his eye. “He confronted me at lunch. It wasn’t entirely pleasant, but we were able to talk without resorting to physical violence, except for a slap,” she admits. “He made a rude implication about my morals, basically, and I reacted with poor judgment.”

“I wish I’d have been there to see that,” he murmurs, grinning slightly before he flinches and licks his busted lip. “Don’t know why I thought he’d just use magic, which I could have defended against, or wit, which I would have triumphed at. I never expected him to just be right in my face with his fist against my skin before I could even finish my, uh, statement. I got a good punch in, too, at least. I think. Blimey, he hits hard.”

“What exactly did you say?” she asks suspiciously when she notices his hesitation.

“I don’t really remember,” he tells her, dropping his gaze as he blatantly lies.

“Teddy Remus Lupin, what did you say?”

“God, don’t do that. You sound like a mum, and it makes this entire situation go to a Very Bad Place.”

“If you managed to push Ron into physical violence, it had to be something quite terrible. He might have a temper, but he stopped brawling back when he was your age.”

“I might have suggested that he was so angry because he didn’t want you anymore but also didn’t want you to be with anyone else,” he says with a sigh. “I also might possibly have said that he’s just jealous you found someone clever and charming who’s nearly half his age.”

“Oh, God. That’s just---”

“Low and dirty,” he groans. “I know. It’s why I said I probably deserved the punch. I was just so angry, and he has no right to make me feel guilty when I’m not doing any of those things he suggested and he said things that were just wrong!" He shifts on the bed and glances around the room before he continues. "Um, the busted lip actually happened after the eye, when I brashly kept talking and, uh, took delight in commenting about the little gaspy noises you make when you’re coming and how beautiful you are when you do.”

She gapes at him and blushes even as she feels herself getting angry. “You---noises---that’s---” She reaches out and pinches his lip, frowning when he curses. “That was immature and petty. Not to mention completely out of line.”

“Ow! That bloody well hurt.” He rubs his thumb over his lip and shakes his head. His hair is light blue now, and it’s long enough to cover his face as he looks down at the blanket. “I felt bad after I said it, but it was already too late. It hurts that he thinks I’d ever do those things to you, you know? I mean, the idea of seducing you just to brag to my mates? What mates? Dil certainly doesn’t care, and I don’t really have any others. He should know me better than that, since, as he apparently loved reminding me, he changed my nappies.”

“I can’t believe you actually had the audacity to discuss _that_ with my ex-husband,” she says. “How could you say such a thing and not expect a black eye or worse?”

“I wasn’t really thinking clearly, Hermione. Having that big oaf ranting at me sort of threw me off, you know?” 

"Threw you off?" She stands up and starts to pace, curling her fingers into her palms so she doesn't do something drastic like use her wand to blacken his other eye. "You discussed our sex life with my ex-husband. Not only that, but you did so in a way deliberately intended to hurt him and didn't seem to care that you were talking about our private business without my permission."

"It was one of those moments when I spoke without intending to," he says softly. "I'm sorry because I'd never want to make you feel like you can't trust me, but I fucked up. I made a terrible mistake, and I wish I'd been in control enough to be aloof and unaffected, but I wasn't."

She walks back to the bed and sits down, keeping her arms folded as she looks at him steadily. "Everyone makes mistakes, Ted. However, in the future, there will be _no_ discussions with Ron or anyone else regarding our sex life and there certainly won't be comparisons with my ex, or there won't _be_ a sex life. Not to mention the fact that you'll just wish you had a black eye by the time I'm finished with you. Understood?"

"Understood." He reaches out and brushes her hair back from her face. “I apologized to him, not that that makes it any better. When we were both dealing with our wounds, I said I was sorry and told him that I would never hurt you like that. He forgave me, but maybe only because I look so bloody bad and my sitting room was a mess."

"It doesn't make it any better in regards to me, but I'm glad you were able to realize you went too far and were strong enough to apologize and admit it," she tells him, gradually relaxing her arms as she lets go of the anger.

"Yeah, well, he still thinks I'm some evil bastard since he made sure to let me know that he’s watching me and that I’m dead, buried somewhere no one will ever find me, and possibly even tortured first if I ever hurt you. Um, I think he was serious.”

“He was.” She has to smile and bites her lip to keep from laughing but doesn’t succeed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but, honestly, Ted! Fighting with Ron and threats? It’s a little surreal.”

“You’re telling me. I don’t fight. Not physically, even if I did possibly break his nose,” he says rather smugly. “I heard it crunch, at least, and he was talking funny when he threatened me.” He grins and starts to laugh. “Okay, maybe it is a little funny, in retrospect. God, it hurts to laugh. I think his boot got me in the ribs.”

“Serves you right,” she tells him. Despite her words, she reaches for the hem of his shirt and eases it up so she can look at his side. There’s already a bruise forming, and she pokes and prods to determine if it’s more serious.

“I can just take my shirt off, if it makes it easier,” he suggests, fluttering his eyes at her when she glares at him.

“We’re not playing Mediwitch and patient, so get your mind out of your fantasies for the moment, Lupin.”

“Ah, see, I never mentioned that as being one of my fantasies, so I wonder if you’re merely projecting one of your own on me.”

She blushes faintly and ignores him, which is probably as much an admission of guilt as verbalizing it, but there’s enough leeway that she can deny it, if necessary. “They don’t appear to be broken, but he definitely got you good. Do you want me to cast a basic healing charm to get rid of the bruise?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never been beaten up over a beautiful woman before. Might like the reminder,” he muses. “Not every day that a bloke gets to defend his girl’s honor.”

“It wasn’t my honor in question,” she points out. “It was your evil schemes to bed me and brag that were his primary concern in that particular argument, it seems. I‘m not leaving your eye and lip hurt. Not only would it be inappropriate for work tomorrow when we go observe the interview for the Warrington case, but it would create too many questions and gossip.”

“Right. We don’t want those children under any more stress than necessary,” he agrees quickly, his hair flashing bright red. “We want to get that bloody bastard and not risk the case over my immature provocation of an angry lion.”

“Did you really break his nose?” she asks curiously as she focuses on his eye and carefully performs a series of healing charms. Even if he did, she plans to have a little talk with Ron and set down some rules, and possibly a hex or two.

“Yeah,” he says smugly. “Prat deserved it, so I can’t say I’m sorry about that. About what I said, sure, cause it was out of line. But not about the hit.” He watches her curiously as his hair fades into a familiar shade of turquoise. “Now that Ron knows, is it still a secret?”

“Yes,” she tells him firmly. She sees him frown and interrupts before he can speak. “Ron agreed to keep it to himself until such a time when we might be ready to be open about it. He did insist that I tell Harry soon, though. I’m not sure when I’ll do that, but I assume the right time will present itself at some point.”

Teddy reaches out to grip her thigh as she finishes healing his eye. “Why does it have to be secret if Ron knows? I mean, I don’t have any desire to post an advert in the Prophet telling everyone we’re dating, but why can’t we just stop sneaking around and let things happen?”

“We’re not ready,” she says simply. She looks at him and sighs. “I’m not ready. It’s easy to say that I don’t care what strangers think or how friends might react, but that would be a lie. At least about my friends, as strangers can bugger off for the most part. However, Rose and Hugo are part of this because of me, and I can’t forget that and be selfish just because it’s easier than being secretive. I don’t want them hurt because of me.”

“Are you ever going to be ready?” he whispers, holding her gaze as he raises his hand and moves his fingers into her hair. “Or are you going to let fear and worry dictate your life and risk your happiness?”

Instead of answering immediately, she considers the question as she heals his lip before she replies. “I think so,” she says honestly. “I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but it’s all I can give right now.”

“It’s better than an outright no or a suggestion that this is just a casual affair that won’t last very long,” he admits. “So, I guess it’s a step in the right direction, which means I can’t complain. But I’m tired of hiding how I feel and sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong.”

She leans forward and brushes a kiss against his mouth, careful of his bottom lip because she knows it must be sore. “I won’t apologize for needing time and wanting to take things one step at a time,” she murmurs, brushing his hair back from his face. As she touches it, it shortens to its normal length. “We are moving in a direction, though, and it’s the right one, if that means anything.”

“It means a lot.” He leans forward and kisses her more thoroughly, moving his hand behind her back as he pulls her closer. When they pull back, he smiles. “You know, if you’re really worried about my injuries, I can always sleep over tonight. My ribs really do hurt, even if your kisses lessen the pain.”

“Incorrigible,” she accuses with a soft laugh. “It’s been a rough day, Teddy. Extremely long and tiring, especially emotionally. You can sleep over, but sleep might be all we do.”

“That’s fine. I mean, I’d love to have sex, because I always love being with you, but it’s not the end of the world if we just kiss and snuggle this time,” he says. “You know, Ron is a bloody fool. His ideas of us constantly having crazy passionate sex all over any possible surface don’t quite measure up to the reality of sleeping with you in my arms . And occasionally having crazy passionate sex. Which is so much better than just having sex and not connecting in any way but the physical.” 

“The connection means a lot. As for Ron, I suppose he figures that the only reason I’d be interested in someone your age was for the nearly constant erection,” she says dryly. “When, really, that’s just an added bonus.”

“See, I knew you were after me for my body and stamina instead of my cleverness and charming personality,” he says dramatically as he shifts on the bed. He rolls them over until she’s on her back and he’s perched above her and kisses her again. “By the way, don’t think I didn’t hear that ‘might’. Gives a bloke hope, it does.”

“That’s good, I suppose. After all, where there’s hope, there’s also possibility,” she tells him, reaching up to pull him down towards her. She might be tired and drained after an exhausting day, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for kisses.


	27. Apprehension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione deals with Ron and work begins on the new case

“Are going to hex me?”

At the sound of the hesitant voice, Hermione glances up and arches a brow as she stares at the door. “I’m actually thinking that your actions last night deserve a full-blown curse.”

Ron flinches and steps inside her office, shutting the door behind him. "A curse? That's harsh, isn't it?"

"Harsh? After what you did last night, I'd say that was letting you off easy."

"Taking his side, I see."

"Oh, please. Don't even start that nonsense. This isn't a matter of sides. It's a matter of being mature versus behaving like an idiot."

“Well, I’m not sorry,” he says stubbornly. “If that means you get annoyed with me, so be it. I had to talk to him myself, to see if my suspicions were correct or not. I didn’t go over there intending to fight, though.”

“Why did you think it was your place to go over there at all?” she asks tightly. “We’re divorced, Ronald. We’re fortunate that we survived that experience with our friendship intact, yet you seem determined to overstep your bounds and push your luck. I accepted your relationship with Mel despite any misgivings that I might have had, and it isn’t too much to expect you to do the same.”

“Not really the same circumstances, you know?” he points out. “Besides, did he tell you that he broke my nose? Mel was able to fix it, but I still sound funny today.”

“Yes, and I think you deserved more than that. And how exactly did you explain your injury to her?”

“I was honest. She, uh, smacked me upside the back of my head and said I was a bloody moron for doing it, but I wasn't! I was just worried about a friend.”

“Somehow I doubt you’d have done the same if it were Harry.”

“You’re not Harry.”

“I know I’m not, which means you claiming it was simply concern for a generic friend is ridiculous. You deliberately sought out my lover after agreeing to accept my relationship, however reluctantly, and you accused him of behavior that isn’t anything like him while also belittling him because of his age. Basically, you, a man of thirty-eight, picked a fight with a twenty year old. So forgive me if I’m rather unforgiving at the moment.”

“Bloody hell. It wasn’t like that.”

“How was it then? You went to his flat, his _home_ , and proceeded to make unsubstantiated allegations based on what your behavior would have been despite telling me hours earlier that he’s nothing like you. You also repeatedly told him that he’s a child and who knows what else was necessary to actually make him speak up and fight back.”

“So it’s all my fault, is it?”

“Yes, it is,” she says simply. “I didn’t tell Teddy my opinion on the matter of responsibility because I don’t want him thinking I actually condone his actions, but I know you’re to blame. You had no right to go to his flat and say _anything_ regarding his relationship with me, and certainly no right to make accusations on my behalf. I didn't ask you for, nor do I want, your protection. And stop trying to hide behind a friendly concern shield because it isn’t appropriate in these circumstances and you know it.”

“Well, hex me if you’re going to,” he finally mutters. “It’s worth it because I feel a lot better now. He and I brawled it out like men cause that’s what we blokes do. Don’t need all those fancy words and threats when you’ve got two fists.”

“If you dare teach that philosophy to our son, I’ll hand you your bollocks in a jar,” she tells him matter-of-factly.

“That’s something I don’t think I’m going to test.” He shifts awkwardly and puts his hands in the pockets of his robe. “This isn’t something you’re just going to forgive and forget, is it?”

“No, it’s not. However, we have work to get done today, and I’ve perfected the ability to be irate with you and still behave professionally at the office, so it should be business as usual.”

He nods and makes a face. “ _Are_ you going to hex me? If so, I’d rather you just get it over with because I hate when you do something all sneaky that doesn’t even take effect for ages.”

She gathers her file and notepad before she stands up. With a slight smirk, she drops her wand into her pocket and asks, “Whatever makes you think that I haven’t already hexed you, Ronald?”

As he narrows his eyes and attempts to figure out if she did, she walks past him and opens the door. It’s time to go to Protective Services and interview Warrington’s victims, which is something that has had her stomach tied in knots all day. She hates this part of abuse cases, regardless of the victim, and having to talk to children about this sort of thing just makes it worse. Susan and Teddy are accompanying them today, and they’re both waiting by Teddy’s desk. 

They look up as she approaches, and Susan slides off the edge of the desk where she’s been sitting. “Is it time?” she asks in a serious tone. She’s the best assistant when it comes to cases involving children, yet she has resisted Hermione’s urging for her to enter the internship program for a dozen years. She still asks because she knows Susan would be an asset if she had more training, but she understands that the long hours and intense casework could potentially cause problems at home, even with Parvati‘s blessing, so she doesn’t push. It’s Susan’s decision, after all.

“Yes, it is,” she says, focusing on the case instead of the distraction of Susan’s career path or how Teddy looks in that shade of green. Ron joins them, and she’s relieved that he and Teddy aren’t glaring or behaving stupidly. 

“Afternoon,” Ron says, nodding at Teddy and smiling at Susan. “Everyone ready?”

It‘s somewhat difficult to know how exactly to act around Teddy now that Ron knows, so a part of her wonders if she did or said something that made it obvious. It was incredibly awkward this morning as she tried to be aware of every word before she said it, so she finally gave up and just started being normal. But Ron’s presence brings back the uneasy feeling and slight confusion. She focuses on work and smiles. “We’re accompanying Ron, and we’ll just act as observers unless we’re needed to help. Susan, there’s a chance that the children might respond better to a female, so be prepared should the need arise.”

“Of course, Boss. I know the routine,” Susan tells her confidently. She glances at Teddy and smiles wryly. “A majority of my cases involve children, and they seem to take to me rather well.”

“You project a maternal warmth that they generally react to well,” Hermione says simply. “Despite having children, I lack that natural air, so it’s a good thing you have it.”

“You’re too reserved to connect.” Ron shifts away from her slightly, as if he’s uncertain if his honest statement will result in a smack.

“I am, at that,” she agrees, following them into the hallway. “Children who have been through traumatic experiences require patience and a gentleness that I don’t quite possess.”

“I could see that,” Teddy says thoughtfully, briefly touching her elbow as they step onto the lift. When she gives him 'a look', he just smiles innocently. “I mean, about them needing something that not everyone could give. When I was a kid, I had to see someone because my parents were dead, and there was one bloke that I just hated on sight. Wasn’t anything special about him, just the way he looked at me like I was broken and needed his pity or something.”

“There’s a very thin line when it comes to my work,” Ron tells him. “On one hand, we have to ask questions that aren’t things they want to talk about, but, on the other, they have to trust us or they won’t say a word. It can be difficult to be objective, depending on the case, and there are times when you really just want to hug them and say it’s going to be okay, which you can’t do because it violates like a dozen different rules. I hate cases with kids, but I always want them cause I want to catch the bad guys.”

“Too many years being the hero,” Susan says with a slight smile. “That’s a condition many of us former DA members suffer from, you know? Lavender needs to propose a study about that sometime with all her foofy groups.”

“I’d refrain from classifying them as such around her,” Hermione suggests. “She takes her work very seriously, and she’s been able to do some rather brilliant things with her knowledge on behavior and sociology.”

“Oh, I know,” Susan tells her. “It’s just too easy to tease her, though. All I have to do is ask if she’s consulted the crystal ball to determine the general mood of the populace for some future date, and she starts going on about ology this and ology that. It can be bloody amusing sometimes.”

“It’s actually an interesting field of study.” Teddy shrugs when they glance at him. “I considered applying for an internship there, but I’d rather be more active and do less research. Plus, I lack the patience needed for a lot that they do.”

The news that Teddy almost worked for the Department of Mental and Social Health is surprising. Behavioral science and sociological impact is Lavender’s primary focus, and Teddy’s knowledge of her area means he must have studied up on it while considering his options. It would suit him, in a way, but she understands why he chose not to pursue it. The research and group sessions would wear his patience, no doubt. Still, it’s another piece of information that she finds unexpected. She likes discovering new things about him, and stores this one away with all the others.

The lift arrives on level six, which is where the Protective Services and Wizarding Welfare offices are located. Greg is waiting for them as they step off the lift, and she reaches out to shake his hand briskly. 

Normally, she doesn’t feel particularly short even if she is an average height. Around Greg, however, she is keenly aware of the fact that she isn’t particularly tall. He’s several inches taller than Ron and built like a small boulder, definitely not someone you’d want to come across in a dark alley, yet he’s actually gentle and unassuming, well-suited to working with kids in trouble. Still, she straightens her shoulders just a little more and tries not to feel tiny as his large hand envelops hers. “Good afternoon, Goyle. I hope you haven’t been waiting long. It took the lift ages today.”

“Not long at all. Matthews just got the children settled,” he says quietly, shaking Ron’s hand then Teddy’s before he nods at Susan. “Lav said we can owl her if something comes up, but, otherwise, they’re ready.”

“Is Matthews still here?” she asks, considering Lavender‘s offer and debating whether or not it might be wise to contact her, just in case. There’s certainly a benefit to Lavender being somewhat of an expert in such matters when a majority of his casework deals with children.

“No, he went to get tea.” He lowers his voice even more. “You know he hates this part.”

“What are your initial observations?” Ron asks curiously. It took him eight years, give or take a year, before he ever trusted Greg’s knowledge in this field. Social Welfare is still a concept that some in the magical world are getting used to even after twenty years, but Greg has become an expert at dealing with children in crisis, regardless of the particular kind. Of course, part of Ron's dislike of him was possibly due to the man‘s marriage to his first girlfriend. Now, she isn’t surprised when she hears about them getting a pint together after work or even occasionally attending a Quidditch match, with Ron denying he was ever rude or distrusting.

Greg frowns as he leads them down the hall. “It’s hard to say. I just saw them briefly, but I think it’s going to be tough. Neither of them was speaking, and they’ve obviously sought comfort in each other, which isn’t unusual in shared trauma. They probably kept each other alive, after all. They’re scared and hurting, and it’s a good thing that Warrington’s locked up or else I’d be paying him a visit.”

"Who do you think would be the most approachable one to question them?" Hermione glances at Teddy and Susan, who are keeping quiet and listening before turning her attention back to Greg. “Susan’s working on this case, so she can handle it if you think that’s the best choice.”

They arrive at the room and enter the observation area. Unconsciously, she stares through the glass at the two children sitting close together. They’re obviously scared, and her heart breaks as she takes in their appearance. She strengthens her resolve and looks back at Greg as she opens her file.

“If Weasley doesn’t mind, I figure he’d not be the best choice,” Greg says slowly. “They sort of blanched at the sight of me, and he’s built close enough to maybe bother them. Susan’s good. So’s Lupin. He’s tall but not, uh, well. He’s not so imposing. Also, they seem to be scared of wands, but not magic itself. So, no wands in the room with them where they can see them.”

“Always knew being tall and scrawny would have to pay off in some way,” Teddy says with an easy grin. “Seriously, though, I think I’d rather not unless it’s necessary. This is all new, and I’d not want to bugger anything up or make it worse.”

“Don’t worry, Lupin. Some women like skinny blokes,” Ron says in what is probably the closest he’ll come to a teasing voice for awhile.

“And some women don’t like blokes at all,” Susan points out helpfully.

The situation is making them all edgy, so it’s not unexpected that they’re trying to diffuse the stress. Still, her attention keeps being drawn to the children, and she can’t join in at the moment, even if she probably should. “Ron, do you mind if Susan goes in alone? We can observe their reactions and change the plan as needed.”

“No, that’s fine.” He sounds relieved at not having to ask the personal questions necessary, and Susan takes the piece of parchment from him to read over the basic information needed.

“Do we need everything now or is this a general first-time interview?” Susan asks.

“Don’t push,” Greg says gruffly. “We can talk to them as many times as needed, but they don’t deserve to be put through more than they already have been.”

They all agree, and Susan leaves the room while they get settled. She focuses on the interview, pushing everything else to the back of her mind as she observes and listens. The children don’t react to Susan at all. They just sit together, arms around each other’s shoulders, and stare at her curiously. 

The girl is Rose’s age, and the boy is Lily’s age, which makes it far too personal for her, but she concentrates even more because of it. After twenty minutes, Susan glances at the mirror and shrugs, ready to give up since she hasn’t even managed to get one word from either of them. In a case such as this, it’s rare to get very much during the first interview, but she had hopes that they’d at least get names and something to add to the case.

“Lupin, you go in,” Greg murmurs quietly. “Just sit and do whatever it is you do. Might help.”

Teddy opens his mouth to protest but closes it again upon seeing Greg’s ‘do it or I’ll growl’ look. He stands up and glances at Hermione before he leaves the room to go next door. 

“Do you think that’s wise?” Ron asks curiously. “Don’t see what he’s going to do that Susan can’t.”

“You questioning me, Weasley? This is my job, and I know kids. Lupin’ll be fine.”

Hermione watches the door open as Teddy steps inside. He smiles hesitantly at the children and looks bloody terrified but he walks over and sits next to Susan. The children turn their focus away from Susan to stare at him intently, the boy shrinking back slightly as the girl soothes him by rubbing the top of his head. Teddy shifts in his chair, most likely feeling as if he’s drowning at the moment, and she almost asks Greg is he’s crazy for sending him in that way. She doesn’t because Ron’s already been growled at once and she certainly doesn’t want to be.

Susan glances at the mirror and gives them a ‘this isn’t going well’ look while Teddy introduces himself and runs his hand through his hair as the children keep staring. She notices his hair flicker as he fidgets nervously, and the brown begins to fade to a pale shade of purple. The little boy cringes and whispers to the girl, who stares at Teddy’s hair with wide eyes. They look surprised and scared, which makes Teddy shift and tap his foot as if he's considering making a run for the door. 

His hair flashes from purple to bright red and back again as he stares at them staring at him. It takes him a few minutes before he seems to realize what they’re looking at, and she can see him blush before he bites his lip as he thinks. It’s a look that she recognizes, so she knows he's plotting something. As she waits, she picks up her pen and makes a note before she focuses on the room. He leans forward slowly, so he doesn't scare them, and shrugs while he speaks softly. She can't hear what he's saying, but his hair begins to change color more rapidly, an assortment of shades she's never even seen before.

When Teddy leans back and his face begins to shift and his hair grows longer, she watches the children and listens to Ron move his chair closer to the table. The children are still staring, but she can now see the wonder and amazement mixed with their natural fear. They aren’t sure if they should trust him, she realizes, and she bites her lip hard to keep her concentration on what they might say or do. She also wonders what Teddy said to them, though she suspects it was something about his gift since he was shrugging and looked sheepish in that adorable way of his. 

Her attention strays to Teddy, and she grips her pen harder as she sees him morphing his face to look like different animals. Her mind is taken back more than twenty years to an afternoon at Grimmauld Place when she watched Tonks do the very same thing while lying on the sofa reading a book. Teddy doesn’t use his gift very often, not beyond his changing his hair color and length, though she knows he’s mentioned practicing it before. She accepts it as part of who he is, yet, in this moment, she can’t help but be struck by how proud Tonks would be of her son.

The children still aren’t talking, but they’re slowly relaxing and no longer seem quite so scared. The little boy is slowly edging closer without losing his grip on the girl. It takes awhile before he quietly says, “Puppy.”

Teddy tenses slightly and Susan inhales sharply enough that Hermione can see it. Then, Teddy smiles and lets his features shift until he looks similar to a puppy. The boy smiles and reaches out to pat his nose quickly before he pulls back and hugs the girl. By the time an hour has passed, the children still haven’t said anything, but they’re more comfortable and less frightened, which has its own rewards. Matthews arrives to take them back to their room at St. Mungos, so they can receive their treatment and rest.

As they leave, the little girl stops by Teddy’s chair and whispers something to him. He nods and she smiles shyly before she whispers something else. After that, she leads the boy out, who waves at Teddy and Susan before moving both his hands around the girl‘s hand. Hermione lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding and glances at Greg, who looks far too smug. “How did you know?”

“I know Lupin,” he says simply. “Get him nervous enough, and his hair’s a rainbow of color. Kids like that.”

“If you say ‘I told you so’, I’ll add Veritaserum to your pint next time we go to the pub and tell Finnigan,” Ron mutters at Greg.

“God, that was tough,” Susan says as she and Teddy enter the room. “They’re not the worst we’ve had, but it’s going to take time to get anything from them if we don’t resort to magic.”

“I prefer doing it naturally,” Hermione says firmly. Since her own experience with bewitching her parents and modifying their memories, she refuses to use such charms in her work unless there’s just no other alternative.

“You okay, mate?” Ron asks Teddy, who is leaning against the wall and looks shaken.

“I’m fine. Just a bit,” he hesitates and makes a motion with his hand. He shakes his head and looks at her before he focuses on Ron. “The girl says her name is Beth and the boy is Howard. She’s twelve, he’s nine, and they’re not related. That’s all she said after she asked if I’d visit them again. I said yes. I hope that’s not a problem?”

“It’s not,” Greg says firmly. “I’ll send you word when we schedule the next interview. Probably tomorrow afternoon.”

Teddy looks at her. “Is it okay, Boss?”

“Of course,” she says, making a note in the file. “You can be our liaison for the interviews, so the rest of the team can focus their attention elsewhere as needed. Kevin or I will attend each interview to observe, but you can write the notes and keep us posted.”

The meeting breaks, and Greg takes Ron to his office to go over another case they’re working on while Susan heads back upstairs for a meeting. Hermione decides to finish working on her notes before she leaves, and she can hear Teddy moving around as he closes the door and then sits at the table beside her.

“Are you really okay?” she asks softly as she looks at him. They're alone, but she doesn't dare reach out to touch his cheek like she wants to because she doesn't want to encourage dangerous behavior by breaking an unspoken rule herself. Especially not when he's getting more frustrated at keeping their relationship a secret and takes enough chances as it is.

“A little drained,” he admits. “I don’t usually change like that, so it used more energy than I expected. It helped, though, didn’t it? They seemed to like it, once they realized they didn’t have to be scared. It was tough, but, God, hearing him speak really made it worth the effort. Does that sound stupid?”

“Not at all. It sounds sincere,” she murmurs. Deciding that it isn't technically breaking one of their rules, she reaches beneath the table to squeeze his hand. “As I was watching you, I realized something that I want to tell you. Your mother would be very proud of you.”

“Yeah?” He smiles before he ducks his head and admits, “I sometimes wonder how she ever could be since I’m not an Auror and brave like her and I don’t really use the gift she passed along to me that often. More like my father in a lot of ways, and I don’t mind that, but I like having a connection to her, too.”

“You might not be an Auror, Ted, but you’re very brave,” she says firmly. She sighs and lets go of his hand, knowing it's time to return to work and focus again. She gathers her notes and frowns slightly as she looks at him. “Now stop making me want to word-we-can’t-say-or-do-at-work you and being such a distraction.”

“A distraction, huh? Well, we certainly can’t have that, I guess.“ He grins and stands up, making a point to look around the empty room carefully before he leans down and brushes her hair back from her face. He glances at her lips before focusing on her. “As much as I'd like to tempt you into breaking more of those silly rules of yours, I'll be good and say hold that thought until after work,” he tells her. “Well, until after Hugo’s asleep, if maybe I can come over for dinner? I'll cook and we can work a little, too, if you want. Or Hugo could beat my scrawny arse at chess again while you work.”

“I like how you invite yourself to dinner,” she says dryly. “However, offering to cook and be beaten at chess by an eleven year old makes up for your presumptuous behavior. Seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be there.” He gathers his notes and opens the door for her, waiting until she’s walked into the hallway before he steps out and shuts it behind him. “So, what do we do next? How long will it take before we get any information from the children?”

“We continue receiving reports from the Aurors as they gather evidence, and we begin working on gathering statements and investigating Warrington more thoroughly. A lot of our job is dependent on the Aurors and what information they provide to us. As for the children, that varies case by case, so I couldn’t even begin to estimate. It could be tomorrow or next week or even longer. They went through terrible events that people three times their age wouldn’t want to discuss, after all, and that they may not have enough context to explain clearly, which only makes it more confusing for them.”

They continue discussing the case as they get onto the lift and head upstairs. Once they‘re back in the office, he starts working on notes from the interview while she goes to Kevin’s office to fill him in on the interview. She has two meetings scheduled that are going to occupy most of the afternoon, but she doesn’t mind so much since the time will at least pass relatively quickly. Now she has dinner with Teddy and Hugo as well as a certain held thought to look forward to tonight.


	28. Provocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to a surprise party and gets surprised.

It’s tempting to forget about the party and just spend the night doing anything _but_ being social. It’s not possible, of course, but Hermione still considers it as she examines her wardrobe and tries to decide what to wear to a surprise party. The week has gone by so quickly that she can’t believe it’s already Friday. Of course, considering the events of the week, both at home and at work, it’s little surprise that the hours went by without her noticing. 

From the Warrington case to Ron knowing about her and Teddy to the juvenile behavior of two of the men in her life to realizing that Ron told Mel despite promising not to tell anyone, it’s just been one stress after another until she feels like hiding away from everyone to just think and try to relax. The very fact that she’s reached such a point isn’t particularly good, so she tries her best not to let it get to her. However, she knows it isn’t as easy as it logically should be. 

Since the realization that Mel knows whatever Ron told her to explain his broken nose, she has become more prickly than ever. She’s annoyed at herself for being so distracted with work and irritation with Ron that she didn’t _hear_ that. She’s angry at Ron for breaking his word that bloody night instead of waiting at least a few days before blurting it out. She’s scared that he’s told others, however inadvertently. 

She’s also worried about Harry finding out and how he’ll react. She’s frustrated with Teddy for not understanding why she’s upset about Mel knowing and failing to grasp why it’s important not to make those casual touches or give her _those_ looks when there’s a risk of others seeing, which he seems determined to ignore lately. And, despite it all, she’s happier than she has been in years even if she feels like she’s drowning at the moment.

It’s isn’t pleasant at all to feel like her life is spiraling out of control. She _hates_ not having control, which is possibly one reason she is so aggravated with Ron right now for forcing her to realize she can’t hide things as easily as she hoped. The logical part of her mind is no longer a failsafe because it seems to have split into two, with one side arguing that this affair very well might be nothing more a temporary casual fling while the other side points out that it hasn’t been casual for weeks and she needs to stop hiding behind thoughts of temporariness to avoid making a few tough choices. The fact that her own subconscious is now calling her a coward is utterly galling and certainly doesn’t help her current mood.

Maybe the party will help. Even if she might be on edge and suspicious that everyone somehow knows about her and Teddy and finds her disgusting and depraved, she can have a drink with friends and just try to relax after a tense week. Ron and Mel will be there, which is going to be awkward, but she’s an adult and she can certainly attend a party with people she’s known for over twenty-five years without becoming a stressed-out harpy. It’s Friday night and the weekend is finally here as well as it being Dean‘s birthday, so it’s a cause for celebration all around.

Once she resolves to have fun even if it’s difficult, she chooses a simple brown skirt and a cream colored shirt to wear. It isn’t fancy but it also isn’t completely casual. Seamus probably doesn’t care what people wear, if anything, but she feels uncomfortable wearing denims to a birthday party, even if it is in a pub. Ron used to mutter that she’s too proper but she has to smile as she imagines that Teddy would just ogle her legs and attempt to swat her bum, which seems to have become one of his favorite habits lately.

Just thinking about him makes her tummy twist, which isn’t a good sign at all. In fact, it’s downright scary. If she avoids acknowledging that there are many emotions involved regarding Teddy, then it’s like they don’t truly exist. She knows it isn’t logical and it’s just ignoring another issue because she’s not prepared to make choices yet, but she can be immature and weak sometimes, too. She’s only human, after all.

After she gets dressed and brushes her hair, she goes to find Hugo. He’s waiting in the sitting room with a bag packed for his overnight stay with his grandparents. Her parents don't see him nearly as often as Molly and Arthur, and they’ve mentioned having him stay over for months, so this seems as good a time as any. She’s not sure how late she’ll be home from the party, but if anything comes up later in the night and they need her, she'll be reachable. “All packed?”

“Yeah. I’m taking Exploding Snap because Grandfather said he’d be keen to learn how to play,” he tells her with a mischievous grin.

“Hugo, don’t terrorize your grandparents,” she warns, feeling a slight throbbing in her temples as she pictures him scaring them to death with magical items. They haven't seemed comfortable around magic of any sort for twenty years, ever since they learned she took away their memories (and their choices, which they've told her many times was the real issue) and sent them off around the world. She doubts that this discomfort changed completely just because she's given them grandchildren.

“I won’t. You know, they don’t mind it nearly so much as you always say,” he points out helpfully. “Grandmother is always asking me and Rose questions about this world and says you never talk to them about it anymore.”

She bites her tongue to keep from replying that she’d talk about it more if her mother didn’t react like a scared Hippogriff whenever she sees Hermione’s wand. "Well, Grandmother didn't know anything about this world, or anyone in it, when I first went off into it, so even though she doesn't mind talking about it with you, when it's me, I think it reminds her of being frightened. Just a little. With you, she doesn't mind it so much because she knows you have me with you. You probably shouldn't tell her that---it would just make her feel bad." She pauses. "Or maybe Grandmother just isn’t entirely sure what else to talk about with you, so magic seems the most likely choice. Did you take your book?”

“Yes, Mum,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll read two chapters just like I promised. You look pretty tonight. Is Teddy going to be at the party? If so, tell him that Dil says hello in the letter I received today.”

“I’ll tell him whenever I see him, but he won’t be at the party tonight. It’s Dean’s birthday, so the guests will mostly be old people like me,” she tells him. “And thank you for the compliment.”

“And I didn’t even want anything,” he says proudly. He stands up and gives her a hug. “We should go now because Grandmother and Grandfather will be looking forward to seeing me.”

“Of course they will.” She ruffles his hair and kisses his cheek. “You’ll be good, and I’ll pick you up in the morning. Maybe we can do something fun.”

“I _will_ , Mum. Oh! That’d be smashing. Rose comes home soon, so we won’t be able to have our special days anymore,” he says with a sigh. “We’ll have to share them with her.”

“We won’t have to share them all,” she promises, wondering how long it will be before he wants to do anything _but_ spend his free time with her. Maybe she’ll get lucky and her children will avoid that characteristic of the teenage years, but she figures she’d better be prepared, just in case.

They take the Floo to her parents’ house. After she has a brief conversation with them and gets Hugo settled, she Apparates to the entryway of Harry’s house in Godric’s Hollow because it’s easier. She’s a little early, but she can hear voices from the sitting room so she walks down the hall to join Harry and Ginny. As she stops in the doorway, her eyes widen when she sees that they have a guest. When Teddy gives her a cheeky smile, she narrows her gaze before turning to look at Ginny when she speaks.

“Good evening, Hermione,” Ginny says with a smile. “You look pretty tonight.”

“Good evening,” she says, forcing herself to not look at the smirking incorrigible man sitting on their sofa. Ginny’s compliment doesn’t ring as true as Hugo’s, but it’s a nice effort considering that Ginny hasn’t ever hidden her dislike of the ‘blah brownness’ of Hermione’s wardrobe. “Thank you. You look lovely.”

Though Harry got to his feet when she entered the room, he hangs back a moment before he hugs her and kisses her cheek. “Hi, you,” he murmurs against her ear. He pulls back and grins. “I didn’t want to interrupt the female bonding clothing thing.”

“You can interrupt female bonding anytime you want,” she mutters as she nudges his ribs with her elbow, “as you well know, prat.”

“Don’t I get a hug?” Teddy speaks up for the first time since she arrived, obviously not affected by her initial glare.

“No, you don’t. I’m just special.” Harry laughs and looks fondly at his Godson, which makes her tummy twist in guilty ways. “A quality Hermione-hug is just one of the benefits of being a hero.”

“You’re definitely special, though I’m not entirely certain if it’s a good special or a touched-in-the-head sort of special anymore.“ She ruffles Harry’s hair before she looks at Teddy, who is watching them. “I’m surprised to see you here, Lupin,” she says pointedly. “You didn’t mention attending the party tonight.” _Despite us discussing my invitation and you claiming you had plans with friends, you smug git._

“Oi! Lupin already? What did you do this time, Godson?” Harry asks, looking at her curiously before glancing at Teddy, who is still staring at her and is now also smirking.

“You know Hermione, Godpapa. She hates not knowing everything,” Teddy says easily. “Guess she didn’t expect me to be here, so now she’s annoyed with me for not mentioning anything at the office.”

“We ran into Teddy at Finnigan’s on Wednesday and invited him to come along,” Ginny explains. “Seamus had asked him to the party, but he wasn’t sure about attending so we talked him into it.”

“I’m sure it took a lot of persuasion.” She feels Ginny and Harry staring at her after her rather snide comment, which makes her shift awkwardly. God, she’s already being a snippy hag, and they haven’t even left Harry’s house yet. She gives Teddy a ‘this isn’t over yet’ look and smiles. “Sorry, it’s been a long week, and I didn’t mean to be sharp. It’s lovely that you could join us, Teddy.”

“It has been a rough week,” Harry agrees with a sigh, reaching out to rub her shoulder. “You’re so bloody tense, Hermione. Maybe you should go see that bloke Ginny sees, with the ‘magic hands’. Stupid wanker.”

“He’s a massage therapist,” Ginny says with a roll of her eyes. “And stop being a jealous prat and calling Sven names. He has magical hands and that doesn’t change no matter how many times you insult him.” She smiles at Hermione. “Seriously, though, I can give you his details. He’s Muggle and amazing.”

“Hmph.” Harry shakes his head. “And I’m not jealous. Just don’t like some bloke running his hands all over you, even if it is in a professional way.”

“Oh, but you suggest that I let some bloke run his hands all over me?” Hermione asks, arching a brow as she purses her lips.

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t be so tense if you had a bloke running his hands---okay, we need to stop this because my mind is now going to very disturbing places,” Harry whines after Teddy snorts midway through his explanation.

“Don’t stop, Godpapa. This was just getting interesting,” Teddy says innocently. “What else does our Hermione need? I‘m all ears.” To illustrate his point, he grows his ears abnormally big before he shrinks them back.

“You, shut it,” Harry warns, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he stares at Teddy intently for a moment. He frowns before turning and giving her his perfected puppy-dog 'forgive me’ expression. “I just worry about you, and I know this week has been rough. Ron’s acting weird, too, but he’s always a bit odd, so I don’t think much of it anymore.”

“Okay. Hermione looks ready to use her wand on both you prats, which isn’t a nice relaxing way to spend a Friday night, even if she'd probably be within her rights and I might enjoy seeing what she does to you two,” Ginny says. “Hermione, forgive my husband and his godson. They’re men, so they just don’t know any better.”

“It’s fine, Ginny. Normally, I’m much more inclined to laugh when they behave stupidly. After this week, however, my patience is worn rather thin,” she explains smoothly, giving Teddy a look of warning before she focuses on Harry. “You have to make it up to me, of course, so you’re buying the first round _and_ you have to dance with me twice.”

Harry sighs dramatically before he nods. “A fair price to pay, I suppose. But just one dance. I’ll make Teddy take the other. Have to share since we’re both in trouble.” Harry glances at Teddy with that same thoughtful frown before he turns and holds out his hand to Ginny.

“That’s just cruel punishment, Godpapa,” Teddy says even as he smiles at Hermione over Harry’s shoulder and waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes her want to smack him. Incorrigible brat.

“That’s because I’m nasty and evil,” Harry says smugly.

There’s a moment of silence before they all laugh and some of the tension eases. Ginny ushers them all to the fireplace so they can Floo to Finnigan’s, and Hermione stumbles when she feels a hand grope her bum just as she’s stepping through. She arrives badly, missing her footing and falling forward. She’s almost on the floor when strong hands grab her arms and keep her from falling.

“Easy there, Hermione. I know I’m the sort of the bloke that has women falling at his feet, but you don’t always have to be so literal.”

She glances up and tries to glare but her lips curve into an affectionate smile. “What can I say? I’ve finally succumbed to your many charms, George.”

“Many charms? You and I need to share a drink so you can fill me on those, girl,” Angelina says with a laugh as she arrives at George’s side. “Here I thought his charms could be counted on one hand.”

“Ouch! That hurts and scars and wounds me,” George moans, bringing Hermione’s hand up to rest on his heart. “You wouldn’t treat me so viciously, would you? Run away with me, my love. We can build a sandcastle and live on a tropical isle.”

“I’m afraid that a tropical climate would just ruin my hair,” Hermione says with a sigh. “Alas, I must resist your tempting proposal.”

“You---you rate your _hair_ above nights of debauchery with your favorite redhead?” George gapes at her and leans his head against Angelina’s shoulder. “She’s utterly heartless.”

“There, there,” Angelina says, smacking his arm as she shrugs him off her shoulder. She steps forward and hugs Hermione. “Now that he’s stopped performing, tell us how you are. It’s been ages since you’ve been by for a visit.”

“She’s been working too much, as usual,” Teddy says from behind her. He steps closer and presses against her back casually as he reaches out to shake George’s hand then kisses Angelina’s offered cheek. “And don’t feel too bad about her refusal, George. Maybe red just isn’t her color anymore.”

“Since you just slammed my baby brother, I probably shouldn’t find that as funny as I do,” George points out with a grin. “However, what sort of older brother would I be if I couldn’t enjoy making fun of him?”

“Maybe we can have lunch soon,” she tells Angie as she nonchalantly steps back and makes sure to step onto Teddy’s foot. She grinds her foot slightly, hoping the heel of her shoe hurts as it presses down on his. She hears him inhale and grunt but he doesn‘t do anything to attract George and Angelina‘s attention. “And my choice of color isn’t anyone’s concern except my own. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see a few more people that I have to speak to or risk hexing.”

She leaves them and looks around the pub, seeing so many familiar faces that it’s like stepping back twenty years and entering the Great Hall for dinner. At gatherings like this, it’s easy to notice the people who are missing instead of focusing on just how many are there, but she’s not in the mood to allow herself to become maudlin tonight, even though she thinks how much Fred would love seeing George happy, albeit with his ex-girlfriend.

“You can’t keep running away from me,” Teddy murmurs softly as he catches up to her. “It’s a party, a crowded one, at that, and no one is going to find it suspicious that we’re talking.”

“Not now,” she says quietly, giving him a look. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lupin, and rushing forward without thinking is a certain way to lose everything. Understood?”

“All I understand is that you’re still getting to keep your bloody secret but I’m not forced to hide away like I don’t even know you. It’s ridiculous to expect that when you keep on about being normal, and we _normally_ are friendly and tease some. Don’t make rules for me if you’re not following them, too.”

Before she can reply to that accusation, she hears someone say her name. She turns to see Lavender walking towards them. Her dark hair is loose and falls over the left side of her face, concealing the worst of the scars that cover her body. Contrary to their association at Hogwarts, Hermione struck up an odd friendship with Lavender after the war ended, possibly due to the gratitude Lavender felt after learning she helped get Greyback off her during the last battle. Regardless of the motivations, it’s been a pleasant surprise. Greg follows behind Lavender awkwardly, shuffling quietly as he withdraws even more in such a crowded place.

“Good evening, Lavender, Greg,” she says, giving another hug and cheek kiss. By the end of the night, she knows from experience that she’ll be hugged out. It doesn’t seem to matter if someone has just seen her earlier that day, they still give the hug and, depending on closeness, a cheek kiss at these parties. “That’s a lovely color on you.”

Lavender smiles and smoothes down the dark red dress she’s wearing. Her scars are visible around the bodice and due to the short sleeves, but she doesn’t seem to care. Hermione remembers a time when Lavender _did_ care, and she's grateful that Lavender found Greg, who managed to help her move past that. “I managed to find the most delightful little boutique in Hogsmeade during a therapy session recently. We simply must go sometime. They sell clothing inspired by Muggle fashion, so it’s really quite interesting.”

“Oh, yes, we must because I just love shopping,” Hermione says dryly. Greg snorts and coughs to cover it up when Lavender gives him a look.

“Don’t encourage her,” Lavender scolds before she focuses on Teddy. “How are you, Teddy? Greg told me you’ve been doing wonderfully at work with,” she lowers her voice, “the children.”

“He’s brilliant with ‘em,” Greg says firmly. He doesn’t speak a lot, but, when he does, it’s usually honest and to the point. Even after fifteen years, Hermione’s still startled that he and Lavender clicked so well, but they make sense in an odd way that just has to be seen to understand.

“I dunno if I’d say brilliant,” Teddy says, smiling sheepishly. “It’s different, but I like it. I mean, I managed to get them to talk a little today, even if they didn’t say much.”

“Often in these cases, it’s not what they say that truly matters in the healing process,” Lavender tells him. “If you’re helping them adjust and move on, it’s far more important than getting information about the crimes, regardless of what the Aurors would have you believe.”

Greg looks at Hermione seriously and says, “I’m thinking of asking to borrow him for another case I have. Ten year old boy who got caught nicking handbags in Diagon Alley. Borderline case that I think we can pull back safely. Not the animal faces, but the open frankness might work, cause nothing I’ve done has yet. Don’t want this one turning out like I did, you know?” He shrugs and stops talking, obviously reaching his quota of words for the moment.

“You made bad choices and admit to those,” Lavender says firmly. “If it hadn’t been for your friends and family, you wouldn’t have made those decisions, and you’ve managed to make something of your life that you can be proud of. Not to mention that you snagged me as your wife, which really makes everything else pale in comparison.”

“If Teddy agrees to help, I don’t see any problem with it so long as it doesn’t interfere with any of his assignments,” Hermione tells Greg, though she’s not sure he’s listening anymore because he’s looking at Lavender and touching one of the scars on her face in a very private way that causes her to realize it’s time to move on. “Owl me about the shopping, Lavender, and I’ll see you at work next week, Greg.”

They nod and say good-bye as she and Teddy walk away. Considering Lavender's fondness for kissing her husband in public, she's relieved they managed to get away without witnessing such an event. While she enjoys seeing people happy, she’s just not a particular fan of public displays of affection, so she’s glad to escape before she becomes uncomfortable. 

As they move through the crowded pub, Teddy stays close by. She stops occasionally to speak to someone, but she can always feel him nearby or hear him talking or laughing with someone he knows. After being social for awhile, she seeks a corner for a moment of quiet. It’s no surprise when Teddy happens to join her.

“Tired of hugging? Me too, and I don’t even know half these people,“ Teddy says. “The short blonde witch pinched my arse, I swear.“

“With as much as some of them are already drinking, I’m surprised she’s the only one. As for me, I needed a quiet moment,” she tells him, giving him a deliberate look. He ignores it and settles in beside her to watch the crowd.

“So, what bad choices did Greg make?” he asks. “I was wondering but didn’t have a chance to ask earlier.”

She glances at him and considers his words. “Greg chose the wrong side during the war, and he was part of a group of three who nearly killed me, Harry and Ron,” she says finally.

“What?” He stares at her. “And now he works with kids?”

“Yes, well, the other surviving member of that trio is your illustrious second cousin, so I’d not point fingers unless you want them pointed back,” she tells him firmly. “Greg was never an actual Death Eater, nor was his friend, Crabbe, who didn’t survive their attack on us. He would have been if it had been possible, of course, but choices that children make shouldn’t shape their entire lives if they have the desire to make more of their lives.”

“You don’t have to mention Draco in such a snotty way,” Teddy murmurs quietly. “He might be an arse, but he’s some of the only family I have left. At least he made an effort to connect with me, and he’s not all that bad, just different.” He frowns in thought and then nods. “Actually, I understand better why Goyle works with troubled kids. He tries to save them from making the same mistakes he did, yeah?”

“That wasn’t a snotty tone, Teddy. As for Greg, he also helps those who can’t help themselves, like the current case,” she agrees. “You don’t have to feel obligated to assist him on that case he mentioned, but, if you’d like to, just keep me apprised of the situation.”

“Will do, Boss,” he says, flashing her a grin. “And no more work at a party. We need a drink. Guess we should find Harry, since he’s buying. I think I see him over at a table near that ugly painting.”

“Teddy, this needs to stop. You really can’t keep following me around the entire party,” she whispers. “It probably already looks suspicious since you haven’t really left my side since we arrived, and I don’t want people to notice anything out of the ordinary. And please stop touching me because it’s difficult to think when you do.”

His smile fades and he runs his fingers through his hair, which flashes from brown to dark red and back again. “Sorry. I wasn’t aware that my being in the same proximity as you in a crowded pub was somehow indicating to everyone that we had fucking amazing sex last night or that my touch caused you such problems.”

"Be quiet," she hisses, looking around quickly to make sure no one overheard him. Once she's sure it's safe, she looks at him and frowns. “It doesn’t, and you know it.” 

She rubs her temple and hears Seamus calling out for everyone to get quiet before she can continue. The lights go out as Dean approaches the pub, and she suddenly finds herself pushed against the wall with Teddy’s lips on hers. She whines softly and tries to push him away even as she parts her lips and curls her tongue around his. 

It’s too dark to see anything but she can hear people all around them counting softly and preparing for Dean’s arrival. Teddy moves his hand beneath her shirt and squeezes her breast roughly, obviously taking out some of his frustration with the situation on her. And she replies in kind, scratching his back hard enough to make a mark as he presses closer. The crowd is on six then five then four. By the time they reach two, Teddy pulls back and releases her, and she leans against the wall as she tries to catch her breath. The lights come on and everyone yells ‘Surprise’ at a shocked looking Dean while she fusses with her shirt and hair, hoping that her lips aren’t as swollen and wet as they feel.

She can feel Teddy staring at her as she looks around the room to make sure no one is gawking at them. Her eyes narrow when she catches sight of a flushed faced Ginny fiddling with her hair while Harry smiles smugly and sees Parvati reapplying her lipstick while Susan shakes out her hair. Shaking her head slightly, she tries to regain control. She glances at Teddy, and he looks sincerely apologetic for taking advantage of the opportunity, but she’s not sure it’s enough. Not considering how bloody _pushy_ he’s been all night.

The kiss and groping her in public, even if the lights were out, crosses the line, though. She can’t just shrug it off, despite being partially to blame because she actively participated in it, too. After a moment, she sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “Come on,“ she says, leading him through the crowd to one of the small private rooms downstairs. “We need to talk.”

“We need to talk?” Teddy repeats quietly. “That sounds rather ominous.”

Hermione glances back at him and smiles wryly. “It’s not a threat, Ted. I just don’t want to attempt to have a conversation in this crowd, even if we used privacy charms. One of the dining areas downstairs must be free, so we’ll be able to talk more easily.”

“Why don’t we just get a drink first and then we can talk? I’ll even sit at the furthest point away from you, if necessary,” he tells her.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t.” She bites her lip and focuses on the stairs as they walk down to the lower level of the pub. Counting the steps helps her focus, but she feels tense and keeps doubting her choice to discuss this now instead of waiting. But if she puts it off, it’s like she’s condoning his behavior, and she doesn’t want that, either. She really wishes now that she’d just sent an owl to Harry claiming a migraine and stayed home because this entire situation has her on edge, and she hates feeling this way.

“Right. Fine, we’ll talk then we’ll get a pint.” 

His tone is strained, but he keeps following her until they reach an open room downstairs. These rooms are often reserved for private parties or business meetings, so they vary in size. The one they come across first is a smaller room, with a table that seats eight and a dozen candles floating around. She lights the candles while he shuts the door. After she casts the necessary charms to keep their conversation private, she sits down.

“So,” he says as he sits down across from her. “Is this about the kiss?”

“Partially, but not completely. It’s also about your behavior all night.”

“My behavior?”

“Don’t say it like that because I certainly didn’t. But, yes, your behavior. You’ve been pushing me all night, Teddy. I understand being confused about boundaries, I really do because I’m not even sure about them, but this goes beyond that.”

His hair flashes dark red as he grips the edge of the table. “I’ve been pushing you,” he repeats slowly. “Yet all you ever do is push me, but that’s fine because it’s you, right?”

“I do not push you,” she denies. "As I said, you push me. You make wide open statements around anyone who is there to hear about last night or this morning. You touch me in ways that are _not_ appropriate or consistent with our long non-sexual relationship. You tell me every day to hurry up when I tell you I'm not ready. I'm not the one pushing here, Teddy."

Her denial seems to make him snap because he starts speaking fast as if he can‘t stop himself. “Yes, you do. All the bloody time. You control everything, Hermione. You say jump, and I say how high because I want you so much that I can’t refuse. I’ve kept it secret like you asked, and I’ve been patient and have waited while you run hot and cold and give me rules that you don’t even follow yourself. That’s pushing, to me.”

“That’s being responsible and mature about a difficult relationship,” she tells him firmly. “And you’re not doing very well at keeping it a secret when you’re staring at me all night and touching me whenever there’s an opportunity. You were also flirting in front of Harry, again, and don’t think he didn’t notice something odd was happening because I know him well enough to know that he did.”

"Yeah, and we can’t let _Harry_ know, can we? God forbid he realize that his saintly best friend is a woman with needs and desires that might very well shock him.”

“I doubt Harry would be shocked at all that I’m a woman, despite his ridiculous whining earlier,” she says. “However, finding out that I’m shagging his Godson, the one he’s helped raise since he was only months old, isn’t something he’s likely to accept with a smile and hug. So forgive me if I want to protect him from having to deal with that for long as I can.”

“At the expense of us. I’m not a bloody child anymore, and he has to realize that. This is my life, not his, and it’s not bloody fair that you’re so worried about yourself and your friends that you seem to have lost sight of me.”

“I---I haven’t lost sight of you, Teddy.”

“Haven’t you? You’re so selfish, Hermione, and I don’t really care because I know you’ve got more to be worried about than I do, and I understand that. But it’s never about what’s best for _us_ , it’s always what’s better for you.”

“I’m not selfish. If I was selfish, I’d say bugger it all and just do what I want without being concerned about anyone else.”

“Right. Your selfishness shows up in the great sacrifice. You have to protect everyone from everything that might make them even slightly uncomfortable because it gives you a sense of control and makes you feel needed. The thing is, you’re protecting some people from things that _you_ think would bother them without even giving them a chance to make those decisions themselves.”

She bristles at his words and tries to figure out how this talk got so quickly out of hand. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“The truth hurts,” he says firmly before he sighs and pushes his chair back. He starts to pace, his hair changing colors so fast that she can’t even keep up. “It’s been three weeks, Hermione. Three weeks. I see you nearly every day, _need_ to see you daily because I feel restless if I don’t, and you still put everyone else’s comfort above our own. So, yeah, maybe I was pushy tonight. Maybe I was hoping you’d realize that you can be with me and not lose everything in your life.”

“I have obligations and responsibilities to consider, Ted. It’s not as easy for me, as I’ve told you from the start. You’re only twenty, and you don’t know yet what it’s like to have to balance a dozen different things, between children and work and family and ex-husbands and friends and chores and cooking and so many other things that can’t just be ignored or forgotten because I’m dating someone.”

“Stop using my age as an excuse,” he tells her. “This isn’t about me being only twenty and you being so old and mature. It isn't as if my grandmother won't be alarmed. It isn't as if I haven't already felt the reaction of someone I have known exactly as long as I've known you. I know something about balance and who could get hurt--one of those people is me--and so what if I don't cook dinner or have kids? I'm not interested in hurting Hugo or Rose, and yes you're their mother and you'd have to deal with _them_ but I'd lose the _entire relationship_ if they were upset or angry at me, because clearly, I'd be the one let go. I'm risking too, so this isn't about that. It’s about you being scared, damn it, and you just won’t admit it so you think of all these bloody excuses that keep you from having to admit that what we have means something to you.” He's loud and flushed by the time he finishes speaking and she watches him deliberately mute back down to brown, clearly demonstrating control before he resumes pacing.

“I'm not using it as an excuse. Your behavior earlier by letting your frustration make you take such risks is proof of why it is it a factor. And you've just listed several reasons why they _are_ serious issues, Teddy." She pauses. "And, okay, I _am_ scared. There. Happy? I’ve said it. I’m bloody well terrified sometimes, and you forcing me to do this before I’m ready isn’t helping.”

“Are you ever going to _be_ ready?” he asks desperately. He stops walking and looks at her. “This isn’t casual to me, you know? It hasn’t ever been, even if you never wanted to hear that, and it’s not temporary for me, either. I want to be able to be with you without secrets and lying and hiding.”

“I just need time,” she whispers, trying to process what he’s said and figure out what to do because it’s too much and she feels like she’s suffocating at the moment and can’t breathe.

“God, maybe Ron was right,” he murmurs softly, looking hurt and angry as he holds the back of a chair. “He said you just liked the attention and the sex because you were lonely and I was convenient. He said if you really wanted to be with me that you wouldn’t be sneaking around and hiding. Too strong and brave for that, he said, which means you were ashamed of me. It’s when I lashed out at him, not believing you’d ever feel that way.”

“I don’t,” she says sharply. “I never---Ron has no right making such claims. He doesn't know nearly as much as he thinks he does.”

“Yet you can’t even bring yourself to tell Harry because you don’t want to disappoint him, and you seem to think the entire world will be against us or think that we’re disgusting. Sounds like you’re ashamed to me,” he points out. “I just didn’t want to acknowledge that, I guess, because it brings things into perspective.”

“I’m not ashamed of you, Teddy. I’m scared and confused and this is so very complicated, but I’ve never been ashamed. There's a difference between shame and caution.”

“I know it’s complicated, but we should be dealing with that together! Not hiding and sneaking around and ignoring all the problems like they’re going to suddenly disappear,” he says, running his hand through his light blue hair. 

“What do you want from me?” she finally asks.

“I don’t know. Well, I do: I want you to stop making excuses and choose. I’m just tired,“ he admits. “I’m tired of not knowing what is and isn’t acceptable around people we know outside a work situation, and I’m tired of not being able to touch your hand or wink whenever Hugo’s around and I’m tired of not knowing where I stand because you say it’s just taking each day at a time while also acting like it could end tomorrow yet looking at me like you don’t want it to end anytime soon. I just can’t read your signals anymore, and it’s so bloody frustrating.”

“I’m tired, too,” she tells him. “I’m tired of lying to my best friend by not being able to be honest with him, and I’m tired of having to pretend around Hugo and I’m tired of feeling torn in so many directions that I can’t even think straight anymore. I’m tired of thinking about the worst possible outcome if we do actually try dating publicly to see what happens between us. I’m tired of reaching for you at night when you’re not there and feeling disappointed if I don’t kiss you every day. I just need more time because it’s all just happening so fast.”

He sighs and looks like he wants to reach for her, but he just tightens his grip on the chair. “It’s been three weeks. How much more time can you possibly need?”

“I don’t know! Just…more. I’m not ready yet, and it’s not fair to push me like you are, Teddy.”

“Maybe it’s not, but it’s also not fair for you to refuse to think about it because you’re scared about making a decision and having to face the consequences of your choice. It's not fair to _me_ that the cost of your caution is to totally disregard my needs. I'm not saying my needs are everything, but they are _some_ thing, and at this point, I don't get to express them. I'm not sure you think I should _have_ them.”

“Stop trying to make this all my fault and make it sound like I don't care about you. You know that's not true,” she says. “You knew before we ever had dinner what you were getting into, so it’s not like I’ve taken advantage of you or lied to you. I’ve been honest from the start, and you’re far too observant not to know my negative qualities as well as my good. Maybe I am putting off thinking about all this because it took me time to decide to take the risk in the first place, but it’s not all on my shoulders.”

“No, it’s not your fault. There is no fault in relationships, not like this,” he murmurs softly. “I can’t wait any longer, Hermione. I wish I could give you weeks or months or however long it takes, but I can’t. I just am so sick of secrets and hiding how I feel. It’s twisting me into knots, even if I always think it’s worth it whenever I’m with you. I hate feeling like I’m not enough for you because, if I were, we wouldn’t be having this argument and you wouldn’t be so hesitant, would you?”

“It’s not like that. You’re more than enough; that isn’t the issue. God, I just wanted to talk about you groping me in public and warn you to stop pushing. I didn’t intend---”

“Neither did I.” He smiles wryly and blinks like he might cry, which makes _her_ eyes water. “Something that feels so bloody right shouldn’t make us feel ashamed or like we’re doing something wrong, you know? If we could just forget the rest of the world, it would all be perfect. Unfortunately, the rest of the world occupies a huge part of our lives.”

“I know,” she whispers, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. She feels worse than she did when Bellatrix Lestrange used the Crucio curse on her, like her insides are twisting so much she might very well get sick, and it hurts so much. “So.”

“So,” he murmurs before he sighs. “This is it, I guess? We‘ve reached an impasse. I want more than you’re willing to give, and I can’t give you what you need.”

“Teddy, I---” She struggles to find words, but it’s too difficult. This is nearly as bad as when Ron first mentioned that they should separate, only she’d sort of expected that and this caught her completely by surprise, especially considering last night and this morning.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “I mean, it’s _not_ but I can’t keep giving you time when I want more.”

“And I can’t give you more until I’ve had time to figure things out,” she says, sighing as she looks up at him.

“Any idea how long that would be?” he asks hopefully.

“It could be a day or a week or more,” she admits, wanting to be honest even if it hurts so much to think about losing him. She can’t stand the idea, but she just isn’t impulsive enough to make such a huge decision without careful consideration.

“I was afraid you’d say that. It’s ironic that one of the reasons I’m attracted to you is your brilliant mind yet, right now, it’s one of the main things ruining my life.” He laughs dryly and tries to smile. “I should probably go now before I decide that my hatred of sneaking around isn’t worth losing you.”

“Teddy, please,” she whispers, blinking away tears as he walks closer and leans down to gently brush his lips against hers.

“I can’t very well leave without a word-we-can’t-say,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against hers briefly before he stands up and shakes his head. “I want to stay so badly that it hurts, but I can’t.” His words are a low whisper and he turns to leave before she can say anything.

She wants to tell him to stay, to tell him she does care more than she’s admitted, to tell him it doesn’t matter who knows, to tell him anything that makes him stop looking so hurt and sad as he walks away. But she can’t no matter how tempting the idea. She hates that she can’t, hates that she can’t just be reckless and daring and that she’s sitting here silently crying while someone who makes her happier than she ever expected walks out the door. She starts to say his name, just needing to say something, but she can't. Instead, she does one of the most difficult things she’s ever done in her life: she lets him go.


	29. Notion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Dean’s party, Harry talks to Ginny

"I think Teddy is infatuated with Hermione."

"Excuse me?"

Harry smiles sheepishly and shrugs when Ginny looks at him as if he‘s crazy. "I think Teddy has a crush---"

"Yes, I heard. I'm just wondering what brought about such a suspicion," Ginny says. She goes back to brushing her hair but keeps watching him in the mirror. “I know you only had two pints to drink tonight, so you’re not pissed.”

"I have to be drunk to think Teddy has a crush? That doesn’t make any sense. Anyway, I don't know why," he tells her. "Tonight, when she showed up, he just seemed more...I don't know."

"Ah. That makes _complete_ sense, Harry. No doubts at all why you were named head of Magical Law Enforcement."

"You're so funny that I'm crying with laughter," he says dryly. He sticks his tongue out at her before he sits on the bed and frowns. “I’m being serious here.”

"I try." Ginny smirks at him before she turns her silly little stool around to face him. "Honestly, is this a valid concern? Or just a random thought?"

"It's not a concern, really," he says slowly, not sure how to explain it. "I mean, it is, because I think maybe he did something tonight, but it isn't because, well, I was young once and I know all about crushes."

Ginny rolls her eyes and makes a face. "If you mention Cho, I'll aim a curse at that cute arse of yours," she warns. She considers him a moment before she speaks again. "I suppose I could see signs of a possible infatuation, now that you mention it. Do you figure she knows? Maybe that's why she was so off tonight. It's not like her to be downright sharp the way she was before we went to Finnigan‘s."

"Maybe. I thought she was just stressed with the new case, but it makes sense that maybe something else was going on, too. Bloody hell, I hope he isn't being a pest about it," he says with a sigh. "Something happened tonight, though, because he left in a hurry, and she was acting weird for the rest of the night. She left early, too, which isn't her usual behavior when Hugo has a sitter."

"Blimey, I hope he didn't try anything," Ginny mutters. "He'd be lucky to survive with his bollocks intact, our Teddy or not. I didn't really speak to her tonight, so I don't know how weird she was compared to any time you lot have such a horrible case."

"She was behaving very oddly," he says simply. "Seamus noticed it, and so did George. We even discussed it because we were worried. Seamus thought maybe it was because Ron had his tongue down Mel's throat most of the night, but I don't think she even noticed that. George didn‘t have any theories, just listened and watched and possibly laughed at me and Seamus a few times."

Ginny blinks at him before she snorts. "Whoever says that women are gossips really needs to meet the men of Gryffindor. I swear, you lot are worse than a bunch of old women."

"It's not gossip; it's just concern for a good friend," he defends, shifting slightly as her words hit a little too close to home. "My best friend, I'll point out. If my Godson has done something foolish that's made her anxious, it's my responsibility to make sure he's slapped upside the head and learns his lesson."

"Yes, well, considering that Teddy is now taller than you, I'm not sure I'd suggest smacking him," she says dryly. "Besides, you're trying to meddle, Harry, and you know that never turns out well. You're a love for worrying, but this isn't any of your business. If Teddy did something stupid, he'll get hexed and learn from his mistake. It's not like he'd force her into kissing him or anything. Fleur says that he never even tried anything with Victoire, so who knows if Hermione is even his type, if you know what I mean."

"Victoire isn't Hermione, thank God," Harry points out, making a slight face. He loves all his nieces and nephews, but Bill and Fleur's children definitely inherited some odd superior gene that just rankles his nerves. "And he's not interested in men. I mean, nothing wrong with that, of course, but I've seen him looking at women when he doesn't think anyone's watching. It's my keen observational skills that made me aware of his staring at Hermione like she was bloody pudding and the meal was nearly over."

She laughs. "That's just a rather disturbing image, love. Maybe you're working too hard. You should probably sleep in tomorrow, if you can. It's obvious that you need more rest," she tells him. "I love Hermione, too, but I just don't think Teddy's likely to develop a crush on someone like her."

"Someone like her?" Harry frowns and shakes his head. "You women are just utterly clueless sometimes. She might not be gorgeous or athletic, but she's beautiful and clever and caring. She's like my sister, so it would be disturbing to think past that, but I'm sure many men would find other things appealing about her."

"I'm sure they would. However, ‘many men’ doesn't necessarily include a handsome young man who used to date the daughter of a half-Veela.” She shakes her head. "Besides, it would just be stupid of him because Hermione's certainly not going to ever think about him that way, so it would be completely hopeless. Teddy's too clever to do anything that foolish."

"I don't think infatuation has anything to do with intelligence." He pauses. "Wait, you think Teddy's handsome?" He frowns more and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "He's just a kid."

"Twenty isn't 'just a kid', Harry. Twenty is perfectly legal to admire, if married, and touch, if not," she points out in a teasing tone. "Luckily for you, the latter isn't a concern and I would never perform the former because, goodness, he's our Teddy. I don’t care how old he is because I can’t seem to adjust to the fact that he _is_ older. He still asks for biscuits, for Merlin‘s sake. Thinking of him as a sexual being is just weird, and Hermione's not going to do anything that creepy.” She pauses before she smiles wickedly. “Now, Sven, on the other hand---"

Before she can finish her comment, he pounces. She giggles as he pulls her off that silly little stool of hers and carries her to the bed. Regardless of what she says, he just _knows_ something must have happened tonight, so he'll go see Hermione tomorrow to make sure everything's okay. For now, though, he's going to make Ginny forget all about Sven.

End Interlude


	30. Desolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can’t sleep

Teddy’s gone.

Even after he quietly shuts the door behind him, Hermione sits in the private room waiting. If she goes, she won’t be there if he comes back. After enough time passes for her to have to accept that he _isn’t_ coming back, she feels numb. This is one of the reasons she’s been so hesitant to acknowledge the possibility of a real relationship between them. She hates the hurt and the loss. With Ron, they had drifted apart gradually, and it hadn't been a huge surprise when they decided it was best if he just moved out, but it was still horrible to lose him. There had been an ache, a sense of failure at not being able to fix their relationship or save her marriage, and there had been tears, always after the children were in bed, but she had survived and life went on. Of course, she'd also vowed at one point to never again allow herself to fall into such a position because the hurt was awful.

Yet, here she is once again. Different circumstances but similar in many ways. In this case, she resisted giving herself completely to lessen the pain when he inevitably left only to find out that it doesn’t hurt any less. It’s illogical and confusing, and she can’t think about this right now. She’s spent so much time thinking during the past weeks that she thought she must have considered every possible angle and choice, but she knows she unconsciously avoided any thoughts that involved emotions or a possible future. 

It’s too soon. She thought she had more time, that she could adjust to the huge decision she already made by giving them a chance, albeit in secret, and after she was comfortable, then she could think about the future and worry and analyze and make lists, as is her way. While three weeks might seem like forever to someone Teddy’s age, to her it feels like barely enough time to process the fact that she’s dating again and involved with someone she’s beginning to care more about. 

A lot of what he said still rings in her ears, the accusations and valid arguments regarding her actions, or inaction, and she knows she has to concentrate on their fight and go over every detail that she can remember repeatedly until things begin to make sense. But not now. Probably not even tomorrow or the next day; though, if she’s being perfectly honest with herself, she doubts she makes it through the night without making a list. It hurts too much, it’s too fresh, and she doesn’t want to make herself sick obsessing over it until she’s ready. Of course, knowing her mind and the fact that she’s already fighting the urge to grab paper and start writing things out in a hope that the pain will weaken, she isn’t entirely sure that she won’t end up obsessing anyway.

Unfortunately, she’s at a party full of people she knows and calls friends. The desire to hide and indulge in a good old-fashioned cry isn’t possible. Instead, she wipes her face and takes several deep breaths as she does her best to calm down and appear normal. It isn’t easy, but she has to do it, so she does. She has years of practice at putting her needs and feelings into a space in the back of her mind to bring out when she’s alone, after all, and this is no different. She doesn’t want anyone to realize she’s upset because she doesn’t want them worried about her and she certainly doesn’t want them asking her what’s wrong. Perhaps Teddy’s right with his claim that she unconsciously puts everyone else’s needs ahead of herself, but it’s just how she is and that’s not likely to stop now.

The party is in full swing when she quietly makes her way up the stairs. She tightens her grip on the railing before she straightens her shoulders and forces her lips into a slight smile. It’s not as natural as usual, but it’s the best she can do right now. Fortunately, it’s enough to fool everyone. She spends the next hour making casual conversation, giving hugs, and making vague promises to meet for lunch/tea/dinner/a drink while she smiles and laughs as if the world is perfectly all right. 

This is an act that she refined during the awkward months following Ron’s leaving, when their friends were uncertain if sides would have to be chosen and if things could actually be civil between them considering their rather heated relationship over the years. There’s part of her that is still relieved, all these years later, that they _were_ able to adjust and remain friends because she can’t help but think a majority of the people in this room would have chosen his side if it had come to that. 

After all, Ron is one of them, far more than she has ever truly been. She works long hours and spends her free time with the children generally, so she doesn’t often drop by the pub for a drink with the ‘old gang’, and she’s never had a typical sort of relationship with any of them. She’s the one they come to for advice, the one they call on to kick their arse when they know they need a shove in a certain direction, the one that many of them seem to have somehow cast into a maternal role for approval and acceptance of dating partners, job offers, and any number of things for which they seek her counsel. 

Perhaps it comes from her having been Prefect or tutoring so many of them over the years or possibly even helping Harry with Dumbledore’s Army, but it’s just their way, so she doesn’t protest. It’s nice to be able to help friends, even if it can occasionally be trying to feel like an outsider even when surrounded by a group hugging and vying for her attention. However, the role she plays for many of them doesn’t compare with Ron’s friendship and getting a pint after work, so she’s glad they were never made to feel like they had to choose or balance being friends with both.

When she realizes that she’s allowed herself to drift into maudlin thoughts and is studying her friends as if they were on display at a museum instead of people she cares about, she decides it’s time to go home. It’s too loud and crowded to really speak with Dean now, but they made tentative plans earlier to get together for lunch in the next couple of weeks to discuss Hugo’s wand. She has managed to avoid Ron entirely, despite noticing him with Mel a few times. After Teddy’s quiet acceptance of the slanderous accusations that Ron had no business even thinking since he knows her better than that, she’s not entirely certain that she could control herself if she were to run across him. Since she doesn’t want to be responsible for putting her children’s father into St. Mungos, it’s best to ignore him until her temper cools. Then, she’ll hurt him but be able to stop before it becomes too messy and permanent.

Before she leaves, she has to let Harry know she’s going. He’ll worry otherwise, and he has enough on his mind without her adding more to it. He’s talking to George when she finds him, so she quietly gives him a hug from behind and lets him know she’s leaving, claiming a headache and stressful week when he and George say it’s too early to go. Harry stares at her in that intent way that makes her wonder if he’s trying to read her mind before he hugs her and tells her to take care of herself. After making a promise to meet George for lunch in the upcoming week, not a vague one because he knows her far too well and demands a date and time, she makes her way to the fireplace, stopping by to tell Ginny good-bye on the way.

Finally, she’s home, and the smile fades and her shoulders sag. The house is dark and quiet, too quiet, and she walks over to turn on the wireless because she doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. When she hears the sultry sound of Delphinia Warbeck, she blinks and remembers Teddy singing along in a husky voice that made her feel like she had a fever. “Stop it,” she scolds even as she turns off the wireless and wraps her arms around herself.

Her choices are to go upstairs to bed or to find something to keep herself occupied so she doesn’t think about the fight and losing Teddy before she ever completely had him. Busy wins over sleep, so she kicks off her shoes and heads to the kitchen. After she washes dishes, she reorganizes the cabinets. They’re still sorted alphabetically, but she also makes sure that the various colors are grouped together, too. It’s probably pathetic that Hugo’s turquoise cup distracts her for a few minutes because it reminds her of Teddy’s hair, so she blames the pause on trying to determine whether to group the cup as blue or turquoise.

It’s almost midnight by the time she finishes scrubbing the kitchen floors and cabinets, leaving everything clean and shiny in a way that will be more impressive to her in the morning. Her blouse is soaked with sweat and mop water, her skirt is pushed up high around her thighs, and her hair is a complete mess, but she feels accomplished. There’s still more energy left in her, so she starts on the sitting room. “Let’s hear Ron complain about me not hoovering now,” she mutters crossly, snarling slightly at even saying his name.

Once she finishes hoovering the rug, she mops the wooden floors and then starts dusting. She does everything by hand for once, leaving the magic for another day, and works her way around the room. The bookshelf takes ages because she decides to remove the contents from each shelf to make sure no dust is missed. The majority of her book collection is in her home office, also known as the garage, so there are less than a hundred titles on the shelves. When she finishes, she realizes that she put the books back in the wrong order, which isn’t like her at all. She frowns and fixes them before summoning glass cleaner so she can work on the windows.

At a quarter past three, she finally stops. The kitchen, sitting room, and hallway are all clean, but her body is starting to protest. She’s been awake since six and had a long day at the office before attending the party, and the cleaning has left her back aching and her hands sore. The only thing in her mind now is to shower and sleep, so her plan was effective, albeit tiring. She puts out the candles and slowly makes her way upstairs in the dark. When she enters her bedroom, she strips off her clothes and puts them in the hamper before she turns on the shower. She washes quickly, not lingering because she’s riding the wave of exhaustion that will let her sleep deeply and just forget everything.

That plan lasts until she pulls down the blanket and slips between the sheets.

Everything smells like Teddy. The pillow, the sheets, and the entire room, it seems. She’s instantly awake, and she feels the twisting in her gut as she inhales slowly, savoring the masculine scent that she’s come to love over recent weeks. She turns her head into the pillow and sniffs, moving her arm over the empty space beside her. When she realizes what she’s doing, she sits up and shakes her head. This won’t do. It’s pitiable, at best, and she sincerely doubts he’s lying around sniffing pillows and fighting tears.

She rolls out of bed and begins pulling off the sheets. Thank god no one is around to see her because she must look mad. A naked woman tugging furiously on pale yellow cotton while biting her lip to keep from crying is an image that makes her cringe because she’s the woman. Naked because she’s taken to wearing Teddy’s T-shirt and her other sleeping clothes are in the hamper to be washed, and she can’t very well wear his shirt tonight. She just didn’t count on the bloody sheets.

After she pulls them off, she tosses them on the floor. “There. Better,” she says emphatically as she crawls onto the bare mattress and curls up into the fetal position. Her pillow is on the floor with the sheets and blankets because Teddy’s scent has managed to permeate all her bedding. It’s cold without any cover, but she’s too worn out to contemplate a warming charm, so she just shivers a little until she adjusts. She keeps sniffing and smells nothing more than the fruity scent of her soap and the mustiness of the mattress.

“Just sleep,” she tells herself, closing her eyes tightly and trying to count sheep then hippogriffs then books. Nothing works. She tosses and turns, the scratchy surface of the mattress rubbing against her bum then her breasts then her bum again. A glance at her bedside clock tells her that it’s after four, and she’s still not asleep. She has to pick up Hugo in eight hours, as she told her parents she’d be there by noon, and she promised him a special day, which means she _has_ to be herself by then, or at least a reasonable facsimile.

She opens her eyes again and stares at the ceiling. It’s not working. Nothing is working. She can still see him, still feel him, still hear him, still smell him, and still taste him. Why can’t she just stop feeling? She wants to be numb, to be cold and distant, to not hurt so bloody much. She sits up again and pushes her hair out of her face as she stares at her dark room. She stays there for a while, doing nothing except looking at the shadows, before she eventually crawls across the mattress and carefully slides off.

When she’s on the pile of sheets and blankets, she pulls them around her and inhales, smelling Teddy, smelling _them_ , and she finally lets go of the tears she’s refused to let fall since he walked away. She cries silently at first, her face becoming damp as she pulls the sheet around her upper torso, but it gradually becomes worse until she’s sobbing into the spare pillow. She cries for everything she did wrong, everything Teddy did wrong, everything they lost, everything they’ll never have now, unless there's some way to fix this that she just hasn't seen yet. It hardly seems likely, but it's a little bit comforting to think it's possible. It isn’t until the tears start to stop that she finally feels herself start to drift off into sleep.


	31. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry drops by with breakfast

“Hermione? Hermione, wake up. If you don’t wake up right now, I’m going to do something drastic. I don’t know what yet, but it’ll be bad, so just wake up.”

The annoying shriek won’t stop, even after Hermione shifts and swats at it. She frowns and swats again, refusing to open her eyes. If she doesn’t open them, then she’s not yet awake. It’s irrational, of course, but she can’t very well be logical all the time. Besides, there’s a chance that she’s still sleeping, because it’s just like her to have a dream involving someone saying her name and making ridiculous threats.

“Seriously, Hermione. You’re worrying me, so just open your eyes and say something rude.”

“I’m not rude,” she mutters crossly, pulling the sheet above her head as she ignores the voice, which is sounding more and more like Harry as she drifts into complete consciousness.

“Are too. Especially when you’ve not yet had your coffee.”

She frowns and slowly lowers the sheet until she can peek over the hem. When she opens her eyes, she sees Harry kneeling next to her looking worried and serious. “You have your serious scowl on,” she murmurs, blinking at him as she debates whether this is actually some sort of odd dream or if Harry is actually in her bedroom for some unknown reason.

“And here I thought it was my ‘my best friend is scaring the hell out of me’ frown.”

“Don’t be a smart arse this early in the morning.”

“It’s not that early.”

“It isn’t?” She blinks at him again and lowers the sheet more as she turns to look at the clock. Instead of seeing it, however, she sees the wooden base of the bedside table. “I’m on the floor.”

“You’re also, uh, naked,” Harry says with a wince. “Found that out when I tried moving you.”

“Oh, honestly, Harry. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she mutters, rolling her eyes as she tries to wake up fully.

“You were eighteen and your, uh, those things certainly didn’t look like _that_ ,” he points out as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looks anywhere but at her chest.

“They’re called breasts. And at eighteen, I hadn’t had two children that I nursed. You saw them then, too,” she reminds him as she reaches up to run her hand over her face.

“I know what they’re called, Hermione, but they weren’t breasts when you were nursing. I mean, they were, obviously, but they were, uh, food delivery units. Right. That’s what they were. And that doesn’t count on the embarrassment scale regarding a bloke seeing his best friend’s naked, uh, things.”

“Great. I have _things_ that have somehow become misshapen in the last twenty years to a point that my best friend can’t even call them breasts.”

“Can we please _not_ talk about you being naked? I’m doing my best to forget that right now, which is difficult when you keep muttering about bits and bobs.”

“You’re so virtuous that it’s sickening, Potter,” she tells him with a nod of her head, that turns out not to be a good idea because it pulls at muscles in her neck that _hurt_. “Bloody hell.”

“Are you okay?” he asks with concern. “God, when I showed up and you weren’t downstairs I got so worried, and then I came up here and your bed is a mess and I found you lying on the floor and you looked so still and…don’t ever scare me that way again.” He hits her shoulder harder than is necessary, which makes her thwap his arm.

“Don’t break into my home on a Saturday morning and proceed to abuse me,” she warns him as she slowly sits up. Her head is killing her and her body aches, most likely from her sleeping on the bloody floor. She shifts and her sheet falls before she can catch it. She reaches for it and pulls it up but can’t resist saying, “Oh no, Harry. It’s naked _things_.”

“You’re such a bitch in the mornings,” he tells her bluntly. “You’re lucky that I’m used to it or you’d be finding a new best friend.”

“I need coffee to be nice,” she says with a slight pout. After she’s sitting up and leaning against the bed, the events of last night start coming back to her. It’s a sign of how exhausted she was by the time she fell asleep that it’s taken her this long to remember. Teddy, the fight, him walking away, cleaning until she was too tired to move. She puts her hand over her face and sighs as she tries to deal with the memories while Harry’s sitting right there.

“There’s coffee downstairs, but I’m not sure if you need it yet. You look like shite.”

“I love you, too.”

“Love means being honest, brutally sometimes.”

“The fact that you’re reciting my own words back at me is rather annoying, you know?”

“Now you know how I feel when you quote verbatim from some offhanded remark I made fifteen years ago.”

“Hmph.” She drops her hand and glances up at him. “Why are you here, anyway? Besides tormenting me with sarcastic wit when I’m at a slight disadvantage.”

“You think I’m witty? You _know_ I‘m not witty, which means there must be something wrong.” He frowns at her and puts his hand on her forehead. “Maybe you’re sick. Do you feel feverish? I’ve heard there’s a virus going around.”

“I’m not sick. I just had a rough night,” she explains. “I couldn’t sleep, so I started cleaning. Until about four this morning.”

“Cleaning? Until four this morning?” he repeats slowly, staring at her intently. “This is worse than I thought. I mean, I saw the kitchen when I got here and things looked abnormally shiny, but I was too concerned to pay that much attention to it.”

“You know, as much as I love our best friend bonding time, I think it might be more comfortable if I got dressed and we went downstairs.” She hears him muttering to himself, which worries her because Harry knows her better than even Ron (at least, in the majority of non-husbandly ways), and she’s not in the right place at the moment to be unaffected by losing Teddy.

“Right. Clothes are good,” he agrees. Instead of getting up and leaving, he stands up and goes to her wardrobe, removing a dressing gown from a hanger. “You can shower and do all your girly routines after I leave. Right now, I think we need to talk.”

"Right. Because I have _so_ many girly routines."

He tosses her the dressing gown, and she glares at his back when he turns around to give her privacy. Real privacy would be leaving her bloody room so she could go to the toilet, brush her teeth, and try to get her emotions under control. She stands up and cringes at the soreness in her back and legs. She’s too bloody old to be sleeping on the floor, obviously.

"Shut it. There must be some, and if you disappear into the shower, you'll just stay there until you feel ready, which might be before I retire, but I'm not counting on it."

Bloody hell. He knows her too well.

“I have to pee,” she tells him in her ‘I haven’t had coffee yet’ cranky voice. “Are you planning to go with me to the toilet, too?”

“You know, I think Fleur might love to have a best friend. Perhaps I can suggest that she owl you for tea and shopping once I resign my post,” he muses in a far too perky ‘I love mornings and don’t need caffeine’ voice.

“You’re evil, Potter,” she accuses as she starts to slide her arms into the sleeves of the gown. She stops and smirks slightly as she folds it over her arm instead. She walks to the bathroom and lightly smacks the back of his head along the way. She imitates his voice, adding just a touch of whine because it makes him think he sounds feminine. “’I’m sure Fleur needs a best friend’, my arse.”

“Get that arse into the bathroom and do your whatever,” he tells her firmly before he squeaks, obviously having glanced after her. “I’ve got coffee and pastries downstairs, though I might not share if you keep smacking me and don't cover all the naked bits.”

“Being around me before I’ve had my coffee is dangerous, as you well know,” she says matter-of-factly. “You took that risk, so now you’re paying for it. Besides, they‘re light smacks, so stop being a baby. Also, quit acting like you've never seen bare skin before or I'll start to wonder how Ginny managed to have three babies.”

Before he can reply, she goes into the bathroom. After she uses the toilet and brushes her teeth, she stares at her reflection in the mirror. She _does_ look horrible. It’s obvious she didn’t sleep particularly well, and her eyes are puffy from crying. The worst part is that she doesn’t even have time this morning to wallow in depression even briefly because Harry’s here and then she has to go get Hugo. It’s really not fair that the world can’t just stop for a few hours when she’s hurting and needs a moment to just deal.

“Coffee’s getting cold,” Harry calls through the door. "Also, just a reminder, I'm a big bad Auror who already broke into your house; breaking in there won't be that hard."

"I wouldn't call using the Floo breaking in, Auror God." She glares at the door but the look softens as she thinks about what a great friend he is. No one else can tolerate her in the mornings as well as Harry. Teddy had potential, but he lacked the practical experience. Ron just avoided her until she’d had her coffee unless he wanted sex in the morning, which wasn’t that often because he never knew what sort of mood she’d wake up in and didn’t want to risk injury to certain important parts if he tried on a bad day.

Harry’s out there worried about her, scared when she didn’t wake instantly and assure him she was fine, and she’s behaving like a selfish cow by smacking him and taking out her anger and hurt on him because he’s available. She needs to get past this mood immediately because she just doesn’t have the time or opportunity to dwell on her loss right now.

“I’m done,” she says. After she opens the door, she smiles at him. “Sorry about earlier. I obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“Literally,” he murmurs, smiling slightly as he pulls her against him and hugs her tight. “I can do this now that I know you won’t curse me.” He tightens his grip. “I really was scared when I couldn’t wake you up.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” she whispers, kissing his cheek as she pulls back. “I just couldn’t sleep very well last night, and I guess I was dead to the world.”

“Next time try sleeping on the bed. It works wonders,” he tells her, tugging on her hair before he ushers her out of the room and downstairs.

When she sees the bag of pastries and cups of coffee, she reaches with grabby hands and sips the hot coffee as if it’s a gift from heaven. Considering her current mood, it almost is. “What did you bring?” she asks in between gulps of coffee.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs and smiles sheepishly. “I just pointed at things that looked good and didn’t pay attention to names.”

“Well, give me something that isn’t very messy, and then you can tell me why you’re here. We didn’t have plans this morning,” she says, studying him curiously. “Did something happen with Ginny or Lily?”

“No, they’re fine. Sorry I showed up without notice, but I was worried about you, and figured coffee and food would be a good bribe to make up for the lack of warning.”

“Why does everyone think that food is such a good bribe in my case?” she mutters as she reaches for some sort of cinnamon bread that looks quite tasty.

“Because it is.”

“Point.”

“So, sleeping on the floor?”

“So, worried about me?”

“Avoiding the question. And, yes, I was. Am.”

She frowns. “Why were you worried? Everything’s fine, Harry. The Warrington case is stressful right now, but I’ve had worse, even if it’s been awhile.”

“Everything’s not fine, so please do me a favor and remember that you’re talking to me and not one of three dozen other people who might actually believe that.”

“Okay. Maybe things aren’t _fine_ , but it’s nothing to be concerned about. It’s just been a long week, and I guess everything hit me last night,” she says, rather pleased that she isn’t lying, even if she is avoiding the complete truth.

Harry leans back in his chair and removes his glasses. After he rubs the lenses and puts them back on, he stares at her. “I know what happened last night,” he tells her simply.

She can practically feel the color draining from her face as she blinks at him. “Last night?”

“With Teddy,” he says more specifically. He’s looking at her with concern, and she feels like she can’t breathe. “That’s why I’m here this morning, to see if there’s anything I can do to make it better.”

“You know?” she whispers, glancing at her coffee cup as she tries to collect her thoughts. “And you want to help? You don’t hate me?”

“Hate you?” he asks slowly. “Why would I hate you, Hermione?”

She looks back at him and laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound as hysterical to him as it does to her. “Why? Because it’s wrong? Because he’s too young or I’m too old or he’s practically family or it doesn’t make any sense or I’m disgusting and depraved or he’s your Godson and I’m your divorced best friend or any number of reasons as to why I‘m crazy and this is just the biggest mistake I‘ve ever made.”

He frowns and shifts in his chair before he says, “You, uh, made a mistake? Is that, um, God. The sheets? Is that…you, uh, you and Teddy? On the sheets?”

“Well, we certainly didn’t on the floor,” she mutters, uncertain why he’s squeaking and looking baffled when he’s the one who brought it up. “How long have you known?”

“No, I’m asking the questions,” he says firmly. He sits forward and stares at her as if she’s someone he’s questioning at work. It makes her feel uncomfortable and nervous, and she hates that he’s looking at her in such a way. “How long has it been going on?”

She sighs and runs her hand through her hair. “About three weeks. Was. It’s not anymore,” she says softly, blinking at the fireplace as she bites her lip.

“Three weeks?” he repeats quietly. “You and Teddy. Our Teddy. For almost a month? And you didn’t tell me? Why the hell didn‘t you tell me, Hermione?”

“I don't know,” she whispers, leaning forward to sit her coffee on the table. She reaches for one of the pillows kept on the sofa and hugs it against her. “I thought he just had a crush, you know? And I was flattered and liked being desired, and, honestly, I guess I had a little crush on him, too, after working with him. So, when he asked me to dinner, I tried to say no because I knew it was wrong and too complicated, but he was persistent and, God, I really wanted to go, so I did. It just escalated from there. We started dating, but kept it a secret because I wasn’t sure if it was just temporary, and I didn’t want to take the risk of upsetting my life for something that might not last.”

“He’s only twenty,” Harry tells her. “You’re nearly twice his age, have had children and a marriage and an entire life before he was even born. God, you helped raise him! And now you’re shagging him?”

“He’s not a child,” she says. “He’s twenty years old and mature for his age. I know there’s an age difference, that was one of the main issues we had, and I know I helped raise him because that was the other. But I’m not his mother and I’m not related to him, and he’s not looking for a mum or surrogate parent.”

“If there’s nothing wrong with it, why did you hide?” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, tugging on it in the way that indicates he’s upset and frustrated. “If it wasn’t Teddy, the age wouldn’t be such an issue, but it _is_ Teddy. He’s my Godson, Hermione. I promised I’d look after him and take care of him, not lead him down a path of misery and heartache.”

“Being with me is misery and heartache?” she asks. “Well, it’s good that we ended it then, I guess. You don’t have to worry about him being miserable by wanting to be with me. See, this is why I didn't say anything. I was scared you'd react this way.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Harry says. It’s difficult to tell by his tone if he’s considering what hex to use on her or if he actually doesn’t care, which she finds hard to believe. “You were scared of me? Why, Hermione? Why would you keep something like this from me? I mean, sure, I might not like it, might not approve, might think you’re mental, but you lied to me! You didn‘t trust me with something this big, and I can‘t believe---fuck.”

“Because I didn’t want you to be disgusted with me,” she says honestly. She looks up at him and sighs. “I didn’t want you to think what Ron obviously does, and because I didn’t want to disappoint you. I didn’t want anyone to know because I was scared of people’s reactions and what they’d think of us and how the children would be affected and what we’d have to face from friends and strangers alike.”

“You didn’t want me to be disappointed in you so you lied and kept me in the dark about something this important?” He shakes his head and laughs dryly. “God, Hermione, I’m disappointed in you _now_ , and we’ll never know how I’d have reacted if you’d just been honest.” He frowns and she can see the hurt expression on his face. "Wait, Ron knows? But you didn't tell me?” Harry curses and leans forward, resting his face in his hands as he puts his elbows on his knees. “How long has he known?”

“I didn't tell him, he figured it out and confronted me Wednesday. He went to Ted’s flat and they got into a fight. Ron has the insane idea that Teddy is after me because I’m some sort of conquest or that I’m just using him for sex, depending on what mood you happen to catch him in at the time,” she says. “He told me that I had to tell you or he would, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking similar thoughts about me. It’s bad enough knowing that the man I was in love with for over twenty years thinks I’d be such a cruel slag.”

“Ron’s an arse,” Harry says with a sigh. “Teddy isn’t that type nor are you. If you did something this stupid and dangerous, it’s obviously more than just sex. If you wanted that, you wouldn’t choose my bloody Godson.”

“Ron doesn’t want me, but that certainly doesn’t mean he’s ready for anyone else to have me,” she mutters. “He can move on and find someone to share his life with, yet I’m expected to just put my personal life on hold and take care of the children and be his best friend when he needs one.”

"I just can't believe you didn't tell me. I mean, God. We tell each other just about everything," he says. "And this is huge. I should have known. Hell, Teddy should have even told me. He's bloody well old enough to shag my best friend, he's old enough to be honest with me."

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, knowing it won’t mean anything but having to say it nonetheless. "It's not him, it's me."

“Don’t,” he warns. “This isn’t just about you, Hermione. I don’t care if it’s over or not, it still happened, and it still means he’s dealing with all this on his own. You’re old enough to know better but he’s too young to consider the consequences. He’s also sensitive and quiet, like his father, and this has to be killing him, the secrets and lies and having to hide how he feels. Don’t you remember how miserable Tonks was during our sixth year? It was bloody awful, and she wasn’t as vulnerable as Teddy.”

Her shoulders sag as she thinks about last night and can hear Teddy calling her selfish and accusing her of never considering everything he was risking. He’d been right, she realizes, which makes her feel nauseous and guilty. All these weeks, it’s always been about her worries, her concerns, her life, and she’s loved having the power. She couldn’t get hurt if she controlled it, after all. Only, she ended up getting hurt worse than she ever expected, and she can’t deny the emotions that she’s trying her best to ignore even now.

“I know you’re hurting, too,” he says quietly. “I can see that, even if I didn’t know that you’d been cleaning until nearly dawn and slept on sheets that I’d wager smell like him. You’re my best friend, Hermione. Even if you fuck up and make horrible mistakes, you’ll always be because you’re my sister in all the ways that really matter. But I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me and I’m so disappointed right now that I can’t even really put it into words. What happened last night?”

“I thought you knew.” She looks at him and smiles wryly. “Isn’t that why you’re here with bribes?”

He laughs weakly. “I was wrong. God, was I wrong,” he admits. “Last night, at the house, I began to suspect that Teddy was possibly infatuated with you, and when he left the party in such a hurry and then you were acting so weird, I stupidly assumed he’d been young and brash and tried to steal a kiss. That’s why I came by today, to see if he’d been a moron and made you uncomfortable. I had no idea---I mean, I knew something was bothering you. You’ve seemed happier, and I even thought maybe you’d started dating, but then you didn’t mention anything, so I figured I’d been imagining things.”

How had she been so foolish? After the confrontation with Ron, she had just assumed this is what Harry meant when he said 'I know'. If she'd just been more cautious, this could have been avoided. Of course, she couldn't very well put it off forever, so maybe it happened for a reason that goes beyond her obsessive need to assume she knows everything.

“We had a fight,” she tells him, deciding to be completely honest and just get it all out there. “Last night, during the blackout when Dean showed up, he kissed me, and I didn’t react well. I was so intent on keeping it a secret, being a selfish cow, that I didn’t realize how desperate he was getting to stop hiding. I guess Ron figuring it out and reacting so poorly was just the final straw for Ted. It just all came out when we talked, and he wanted more than I could give, and I needed time, which he couldn’t give me any more of, so I let him go.”

Harry raises his head and looks at her. “Do you love him?” he asks. “Teddy, not Ron.”

“I---” She blinks and slowly shakes her head. “I don’t know. No. Yes. Maybe. God, it doesn’t matter now, does it? It‘s over, and I can only hope that we can even be friends again eventually.”

“Unless that answer can become yes, I don’t want you around him,” Harry says. “I know I can’t forbid it and he’s old enough to make his own choices, even if I still think of him as being a child, but it’s not fair to him, Hermione. I don’t want or need details, but I’ve heard enough to know that he’s been hurt and I don’t want him to be any worse. So, please, even if you hurt and are lonely or, uh, well, horny or whatever, just let him be unless you can give him what he deserves.”

“I work with him, Harry,” she points out quietly. “He’s practically family. I’m going to have to be around him even when it hurts and I wish I was able to just forget about anyone else and go for it like he wants.”

“You know what I mean,” he tells her earnestly. “You’re not stupid, far from it, and you know how to be professional and polite without leading him on or trying to get him back just to have someone. You both deserve more than that. I just want you happy, Hermione, even now when I‘m shocked and hurt, all I want is for you to have a good life. It‘s the same with Teddy. He‘s my Godson, and he‘s extremely important to me. If you realize your answer to that question could eventually be yes, and he feels the same, I‘ll support you, even if I don‘t necessarily agree or approve. But, otherwise, this relationship isn‘t good for either of you.”

Harry’s being harsh, but she can understand his worry. If it was her child, which Teddy is close to being for Harry, she’d be even worse. Hearing him say that he’d support her makes her cry, and she feels so stupid for not trusting him all along. Things probably wouldn’t have ended up differently, because Teddy still wants more than she can give yet and he can’t give her the time she needs, but she should have known that Harry would stand by her regardless.

“I promise,” she whispers. “I’ll keep my relationship with him professional and friendly but I won’t hurt him any more than I already have.” She smiles wryly. “I really buggered things up but good. I guess I’m not nearly so smart and clever when it comes to my private life because I made the stupidest mistakes and behaved so selfishly.”

“Ah, Hermione,” Harry murmurs as he stands and moves to sit next to her. He pulls her against his side and brushes his fingers through her hair. “You did fuck up, quite a bit, sounds like, but we all make mistakes. I want to yell and rant at you for not trusting me, because that hurts far worse than the idea of you and Teddy having a relationship, but I can’t because, well, how many times have I fucked up and you’ve forgiven me?”

“Too many to count. And language, Potter,” she says with a sniff as she wipes her eyes on his shirt. She can hear him laughingly calling her a hypocrite at her scolding, and, despite everything she’s feeling at the moment about Teddy and their relationship, that makes her smile.


	32. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to work and a Monday meeting

The weekend passes by so quickly that it’s difficult to believe it’s already Monday. A morning full of meetings and lunch on the go confirms it, however. Typical Monday. In this case, Hermione welcomes the busyness because it keeps her mind off Teddy and their failed relationship. After Harry left on Saturday, she didn’t have time to dwell on anything because she had to get Hugo, and then they spent the day together and she was so exhausted by bedtime that she didn’t even lie awake thinking. That was saved for last night, when she tossed and turned and thought about all the mistakes she made and what they’ve both done wrong.

By the time she arrives back at her office with just ten minutes to spare before a meeting on the Warrington case, she has only seen Teddy twice. Both times he’s behaved normally should anyone happen to see, but she can tell the subtle differences. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and he looks tired, like he’s not been sleeping very well either. They exchange the usual Monday pleasantries and it feels stressed to her, yet she doubts even Ron or Harry would notice the tension.

She notices. Or maybe she’s just imagining things. It’s tough to know anymore. She feels guilty and hurt, which isn’t a good combination under the best of circumstances, and she also can’t stop herself from wanting Teddy. Wanting to talk with him for hours and laugh about silly things and touch him whenever she has the urge. She wants him to look at her with that wicked smile that makes her skin tingle and feel his arms around her as they just sit and listen to the wireless. The ache is worse than she expected, which confirms her suspicions that she’s already in too deep despite her efforts to keep herself from falling.

That’s something to think about at another time, though, because she has work to get done right now and Hugo to pick up afterward. Besides, she's promised Harry that she'll leave Teddy be unless she knows without a doubt that she could eventually love him. While she suspects she knows the answer to that, she doesn't want to do anything rash without taking time to figure out what's in her heart as well as her head. Of course, she has no idea whether Harry spoke to Teddy, even though she’d wager he did soon after leaving her house on Saturday, so she isn’t sure if Harry made him make the same promise or not. Somehow, she doubts it because Harry still seems to consider Teddy a child who needs protecting. In a way, she supposes that makes sense because there’s a good chance that she’ll treat Hugo and Rose the same way when they get older.

When she realizes that it’s almost time for the meeting, she shakes her head slightly and gathers her file and notes. They’re meeting in the conference room, so she heads that way, stopping to get a cup of water along the way. She’s the first one in the room, so she sits and gets her work area organized while others begin arriving. Teddy sits across from her, as he has in any meeting since he started, and she’s extremely proud of herself for not looking up at him when he gets settled.

“Okay. It looks like everyone is here, so we can start,” she says, finally raising her head and offering the best smile she can muster right now. “Kevin, what do you have?”

Kevin looks at his notes and starts to read. “Warrington is still in Azkaban. My sources say that he hasn’t even attempted to contact a solicitor, which is very unusual as well as suspicious. I have a few feelers out to see if I can find out what the delay is, but, as of now, it’s anyone’s guess. I’ve interviewed the neighbors and have copied you on their statements, but I’ve been unable to get in touch with anyone at his company, so that’s something I’m still working on.”

She listens intently and makes a few notes as he speaks. “I’ve received the statements, but I haven’t had time to look through them thoroughly. My initial impression is that he’s seen overall as aloof and peculiar, but basically harmless.”

“Sounds about right, Boss,” Kevin says. “The woman who lives to his left says that he used to be exceptionally generous on holidays, throwing a party for the neighborhood and the like, but he stopped that last year and became more withdrawn. I haven’t been able to find out an explanation, but her belief is there was probably a failed love affair of some sort. I haven’t found any record of a friend, either male or female, however, so I’d say that’s nothing more than gossip.”

“Contact Romilda Vane at the Prophet,” she decides. “If he’s been linked with _anyone_ in the last ten years, she’ll know.” She sees Kevin make a face and has to fight a smile. “Vane might be obnoxious, but she can keep her mouth shut when we need information, so be nice. If she hasn’t heard anything for her society pages, then she knows people who might. Just keep that in mind. Next.”

“The children weren’t adopted from Oakwood.” Susan leans forward and frowns. “I spoke to several people at the orphanage and no one recognized photographs of the two survivors. There’s not any record of a successful adoption for Warrington. There is, however, an application dated four years ago that was declined. The record is sealed, so I don’t know the reason behind the declination, but I’m going to write up a request for the information to be disclosed in case it can help the case.”

“Get it done by the end of today and I’ll sign it and deliver it myself,” Hermione says, trying to think who owes her a favor and will see to the request being granted quickly. “Anything else from Oakwood?”

Susan nods. “Yeah, but it’s off the record because it’s just hearsay. But, unofficially, one of the caseworkers there remembers Warrington coming in a few years ago seeking custody of a six year old boy. She says, and I quote, ‘the way he looked at the child was one of the most disturbing things I can remember ever seeing’. She also thinks he was interested in a little girl a couple of years of older, but she can‘t remember that as specifically.”

“Great. So there’s a chance these morons interviewed him, declined him for being a mental case with disturbing ogling of children, and they didn’t see fit to, oh, warn anyone?” Kevin mutters, shaking his head.

“It isn’t illegal to give disturbing looks. Unfortunately, they couldn’t really alert anyone without specific reasons,” Hermione points out. “And I doubt they’d appreciate being called morons for doing their job and having their hands tied by the law anymore than we would. Our law has changed quite a lot since Shacklebolt took office, but there is still a long way to go before we’re at the point we should be. Besides, we have no idea why he was declined, even if I suspect it might have had to do with a psych profile.”

“As soon as I hear anything, I’ll copy everyone on it,” Susan tells them. “Other than that, I’m still working with Auror Collins on identifying the children. It’s going slowly with no progress yet, but we‘re not giving up until we get names for them all.”

“Where are you checking?” Teddy asks, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started. His voice is low and quieter than usual, and she can’t stop herself from glancing at him briefly.

“Missing persons reports, orphanage attendance records, and reports of runaways.” Susan sighs. “There just aren’t really that many children in our world who go missing or run away.”

She notices Teddy bite his lip and glance down at his notepad while he taps his fingers slightly. It’s a behavior that she recognizes. “What are you thinking, Ted?”

He glances up at her and smiles slightly, another twisting of lips that doesn’t meet his eyes. “I think we’ve been looking in the wrong place.”

“What do you have, Lupin?” Kevin asks curiously. “Did the kids say something?”

“No, they’re still not talking much at all, which is understandable,” Teddy says. “It’s just a theory, and I might be off-base, but everything adds up. He tried adopting from Oakwood but was declined. That doesn’t leave him with many choices if he was determined to get a child. Basically, it’s kidnapping, nicking a runaway, or, and this is what I'm thinking, leaving our world.”

“They’re Muggles,” Hermione murmurs, leaning back in her chair as she considers his suggestion. “Bloody hell, why didn’t we even consider that?”

“It makes sense. God, if we have to go through the Muggle authorities, this is going to be even more of a mess,” Susan mutters. “I’ll talk to Collins tomorrow, and we can broaden our search range to include Muggle missing persons. With the ages of the children involved, it seems most likely that they’d either be orphans or kidnapped because most kids that age just don’t run away.”

“Chances are he’d keep to a familiar area or go somewhere that it‘s easy to disappear,” Hermione tells her. “Check the Muggle towns around his home, and also London and the other bigger cities. There are several heavily populated areas where children could go missing so easily that it would be impossible to trace it back to one person."

“I’ll see what I can find out about his background involving the Muggle world,” Kevin says. He smiles at Teddy. “Good thinking, Lupin.”

“Well, I might be wrong, but it seems logical,” Teddy says, glancing at her when he mentions logic before he looks away quickly.

“I’ll talk to Harry and Ron about Ted’s suggestion, so they can be in the loop. I’ll also let Shacklebolt know in case we need the cooperation of the Muggle Prime Minister. If this theory is correct, things just became even more complicated,” she warns them. She can feel a headache coming on. Not only did they not even consider that the children were Muggle, which just makes her disappointed in herself, but it also adds another level to the investigation that’s going to potentially require working the Muggle system. She looks at Teddy and nods. “It’s a sound theory, Ted.”

“Thanks, Boss. So, my turn?” he asks, arching a brow at Susan. “I’ve met with the children three times now and managed to get first names and ages. Beyond that, they don’t say much at all. I know the boy is Scottish, it's rather obvious once he starts speaking, so be sure to include Edinburgh and Glasgow in the search, Bones. Fortunately, they’re slowly warming up to me, and Goyle thinks we might get something more solid by the end of the week, even if it’s just a hometown or something we can track.”

“Stay on that with the children. They’re your primary focus right now. If they give you even the slightest thing, trace it and follow it until you reach a dead end,” she tells him. “I want to avoid forcing them to testify, so we need everything we can get to earn a conviction without having to put them through that hell. All of us need to keep those kids in mind when we work this case.”

“Will do,” he promises. “Right now, I haven’t got much, but I’ll keep trying.”

“Good.” She looks at her notes and decides what needs to covered still. “I have the post-mortem on the deceased children that I sent around earlier. It’s disturbing, to say the least, and confirms the suspicion that the sexual abuse continued after death. Corner managed to locate three items used in the torture from those given to him after the initial search, and he also confirmed that the semen found on the bodies belongs to Warrington. With just that, we have enough for a solid case. However, I don’t want solid, I want air tight, which means we keep working it as if we have nothing.”

“As if that’s new,” Kevin says with a grin. “We know, Boss. Never count your dragon eggs until they hatch.”

“Treat every new fact as a stand-alone because you have to be prepared to win on each one since you never know what you’ll face come trial day,” Susan recites in a near imitation of Hermione’s voice. “If you’re standing before the Wizengamot with fifteen reasons why the bastard’s guilty, every single one needs to be another nail in the coffin in case the defendant’s scumbag solicitor knows fourteen out of the way.”

“I deny the latter one,” Hermione says primly. “I’ve never called anyone a scumbag, whatever that is, in my life. Besides, a solicitor isn't responsible for their client's actions, so, even if the client is a nasty piece of work, it doesn't mean the person attempting to give them a good defense is, too.”

“You say ‘worthless piece of dreck’, I say scumbag,” Susan tells her. "And, yes, I know not all of them, but that lesson was in regards to those who accept money without caring about the case, I believe."

“Never forget the victim, because that’s the reason we’re here and, if you lose sight of that, you fail regardless of the verdict,” Teddy says before she can begin a debate with Susan about even guilty people deserving a proper defense. “First thing you ever told me, actually.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Kevin says. He grins as he winks at Hermione. “First thing she always tells the interns is ‘give me your soul and vow allegiance to the underdog or face my wrath’, if only to scare away those who aren’t strong enough to work for her.”

She rolls her eyes. “Very funny, Entwhistle. If I decide to fire you, at least you know you’ve got a future as a Muggle comedian.”

“You won’t fire me. I’m too good,” he tells her confidently. “You can tolerate the arrogance for dedication and focus. Speaking of, any word on Ogden? Is he coming back soon or are you in line for a promotion?”

“He’s still having tests run and taking it easy. There’s no talk of him retiring, so no promotions or even whispers of such things. Understood?” She looks at the file and flips through the pages. “I think that’s all, if no one else has anything?”

“I don’t, and I have to run to a meeting on another case,” Kevin says, standing up and gathering his things. “I’ll contact Vane the Malicious and see what I can get out of her.”

He leaves the conference room, and Susan looks at Teddy expectantly. He blinks and shifts before he says, “Right. I guess I’ll be going, too.”

“Did you need something, Susan?” she asks curiously. With Susan, one never knows when she actually has an issue or when she’s just being her usual brusque self.

“Actually, I was wondering about the intern program,” she admits. She pushes her dark hair away from her face and smiles wryly. “I’m probably far too old to even consider it, but Vati and I have talked about it, and we think it’s the right decision for me, even if it means longer hours and studying. If it’s no longer available, I completely understand. I’ve said no enough times that I’m surprised you even bother asking anymore.”

“Because I knew you’d eventually say yes, if only to stop me nagging,” Hermione tells her with a triumphant smile. “And, yes, the program is still open. My schedule is pretty busy right now, but I’ll make time near the end of the week so we can sit down and really discuss the details. There are different levels offered, so you’ll want to do some serious thinking about your expectations and intentions.”

“I’m serious, and I’ll take whichever one you think suits me best. I trust you, and I look forward to learning from you,” Susan says sincerely. “Even if I am too old to be making such a career change.”

“You’re only thirty-eight, Susan. That’s not old by any stretch of the imagination. Just remember that Ogden is, what, three times our age? It puts things into perspective.”

“True.” Susan smiles and stands up. “Thank you, Hermione. I look forward to our discussion.”

“Me too.” Susan leaves, so she finishes making notes from the meeting. Her shorthand is nearly impossible for anyone to read, so she tries to make a more legible copy for Caroline to type up any time she's going to ask her to. The sound of the door opening draws her attention away from her paperwork.

“Um, I left my pen,” Teddy says, shifting slightly as he stares at her then looks at the chair where he’d been sitting. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll, uh, just get it and go.”

“You’re not interrupting,” she tells him. The room fills with that awkward tension as soon as he steps further inside. She misses the good tension that had her so aware of him and excited every time they were together. Now, it's just weird and uncomfortable, and she hates it because she can't stop remembering how it was just a few days ago.

He walks to his chair and grips the back of it, nearly dropping his notepad. “I lied,” he whispers. He glances up at her and his hair fades to a pale blue as he sighs. “I didn’t leave my pen. I just---I wanted to see you, even though I know I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” she murmurs, trying to remember her promise to Harry but finding it difficult. She bites her lip before she looks at the door and then back at him. “How are you, Ted?”

“Well, the appropriate answer is fine but the honest answer is miserable and aching. You?”

“About the same.”

“I’m glad.” He pauses. “If you’re miserable, then it means something’s still there.”

“There’s never been a question about that,” she reminds him quietly. “But we can’t do this. Harry knows now, and things have changed since Friday night, but not enough. Besides, we can’t talk about this at work. It’s difficult to keep things balanced right now anyway.”

“I know about Harry. He, uh, came to see me this weekend. We had a good talk. Or a talk, at least, and I think it was good,” he stammers. He shakes his head, hair turning brown again. “I’m sorry. About coming in like this and being, I don’t know. Immature and needy, maybe. I just---I had to know if you were miserable, too.”

“Misery loves company.” She smiles wryly and nods once. “I am, but that doesn’t change anything really. Not yet.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He shrugs. “I hoped, but this isn’t one of those books I read. Hurts a lot worse than they say, and it doesn’t get better with time.”

“It’s only been a few days, Ted. It’s still fresh, and we’re still trying to deal with it.”

“Right. Time. Feels like it’s been ages instead of just three days.” He looks at her intently. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, Hermione. I just---I miss you, and I had to seize the opportunity to talk. Maybe just to see if we were okay, unhappiness and all. I don’t like not feeling like I can talk to you, even about non-relationship stuff, and I hate the weird tension that comes from not really knowing what to do.”

“I’m not uncomfortable. I---I’ve missed you, too,” she admits. She sees him smile and wishes she knew what he and Harry talked about because it doesn’t seem like Harry made him make the same bloody promise. “I dislike the strain, too, but we’re talking now, so maybe that’ll lessen in time.”

“It always comes back to time, doesn’t it?” He laughs dryly. “I’m starting to hate time and logic.”

“Unfortunately, it seems to.” She reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear before she gently says, “You should get back to work, Ted. Your suggestion about the children was excellent, by the way, even if I feel stupid for not even considering that possibility.”

“You’re not stupid. I didn’t consider it, either, until I was lying around this weekend feeling sorry for myself and thinking about too many things. Realized that the kids had acted weird when I changed that day, not like most children that I’ve dealt with, and I started to wonder if maybe that was why,” he explains, straightening his shoulders slightly at her compliment. “But it was clever, so I can be smug for a bit.”

“Yes, you can,” she agrees. She looks at him, getting her fill before he walks away again. “I---” She hesitates and sighs. “Let me know how your work with Goyle goes tomorrow.”

He bites his lip and stares at her mouth before he nods. “Will do, Boss. I’ll get back to work now. You---you take care, yeah?”

“I will. You do, too.” She watches him walk out of the conference room and leans forward once he’s gone, resting her face against her palms. After a moment, she collects her emotions and pushes them to the side. She raises her head and picks up her pen, concentrating on the Warrington case and the notes from the meeting for now.


	33. Apperception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione keeps a promised lunch date

The week has been one thing after another, with two new cases on top of Warrington, which is occupying Hermione’s primary focus at the moment. After the oversight regarding the possibility that the children aren‘t magical, she‘s been concentrating on the case even more, and she‘s currently following a suspicion that occurred to her after their meeting. There‘s also a summer virus that has left the department short staffed since Tuesday, which just adds to the work load. So far, she’s managed to avoid catching it, and she can only hope her luck continues, at least until the weekend. It’s Ron’s weekend for Hugo, so she can suffer in silence if she catches the bug.

Home isn’t much better this week. Hugo has been driving her batty with a regression into not letting her do much of anything without him right there. It’s behavior he has only displayed occasionally since he was a toddler, though she can think of two times in the last year, so she’s a little concerned. But the parenting books she’s read seem to think it’s normal considering his upcoming time away from her and home. Whatever the reason, she has her hands full from the moment she picks him up from Molly’s until he goes to bed. Then she’s left with hours to think and try to get some sleep. 

The time at night has at least allowed her to do a lot of soul-searching, something she’s avoided since life became complicated that night several weeks ago, and she’s begun to seriously evaluate her relationship with Teddy from a point-of-view of giving it a try. She’s made more lists, but they’re pros and cons, analysis and dissection, and she’s studying them more intently than ever before. When she actually sat and wrote every single concern down, the size of the list was overwhelming yet repetitive, with a majority of concerns following into a few categories. Still, she needed to see it in writing so she could try to make sense of her emotions.

Teddy has been avoiding her, though he’s friendly when their paths do cross. She regrets being somewhat patronizing on Monday, falling back on one of many defense mechanisms, yet she really couldn’t have been too warm and welcoming or he’d have got the wrong idea. Despite managing to avoid Ron, because she’s still angry at his accusations, she hasn’t been able to evade Harry, who has developed a habit of appearing in her office around lunch time to invite her out to Finnigan’s or possibly just to confirm that she’s _not_ flirting with poor defenseless Teddy.

Today, she’s relieved that she has plans. George has become a close friend over the years, and he always makes her laugh, which she needs right now. Especially after Ginny’s chilly reception this morning when they passed each other in the hallway. She still doesn’t know exactly what that was about, but it’s not like she can demand answers from Harry about his wife’s oddities. Half the time, he doesn’t seem to understand them, either. In any case, she leaves for lunch with George, happy that she’ll have a nice distraction from work and life.

Instead of Apparating to Diagon Alley, she takes the public Floo to the Leaky Cauldron then steps out into the warm afternoon sunshine. Despite the fact that she first saw this place twenty-seven years ago, she still feels that rush of excitement whenever she enters Diagon Alley. She hopes there never comes a day when she isn’t impressed by magic and aware of how privileged they are to possess such an amazing gift. Her optimistic nature might have suffered over the years but this is something she never wants to lose.

Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes is in the same spot it’s been since she was a teenager, and it has several patrons buying things on their lunch breaks when she enters. She spots George at the counter and glances around until she sees Alicia’s daughter, Ellen. The girl has been working for George since her schooling ended, and, from what he says, she’s doing well enough that he’s considering training her for permanent employment. Ellen notices her and waves before going back to stocking the shelves.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that Hermione Granger Formerly Weasley standing in _my_ shop?” George’s tone is awe-stricken as he gasps and most likely flutters his eyelashes behind her.

“It could possibly be your eyesight,” she says thoughtfully, turning to study him intently. “After all, you’re getting so very old, and vision is one of the first things to go.”

“Yep, it’s definitely Hermione.” He grins and gives her a hug before he swats her shoulder. “And bite your tongue. I’m not old.”

“Of course you’re not. If you were, that would mean I was, considering I’m barely a year and a half younger.”

“Logic as always, I see.“ He looks over and calls out in a loud voice across the aisles, “Ellen, I’m having lunch. Don’t burn the shop down, don’t let people sweet talk you into making any deals, and stop ogling that cute bloke looking at the sweets.”

“She’s going to kill you,” Hermione mutters as Ellen turns bright red and looks at the bloke in question, who is fighting a smile.

“Nah, she’ll just try to prank me later. It’s a routine,” he says. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs to eat. You’re lucky enough to be getting a meal cooked by yours truly.”

“Hmmm. Where did you get take-away?” she asks pointedly as she follows him to the back staircase.

“That hoity toity place that Angie loves. I refuse to say the name because it sounds ridiculous. It’s the principle of the matter.”

“You bought hoity toity food for me?” She grins. “I feel so special. Do you mean Z?”

“Hmph. Ridiculous bloody name. No surprise considering who owns it, but they make great lunches. Besides, their chef is a customer in the, uh, _back room_ , so I get a discount.”

“Just hope Zabini doesn‘t find out his chef is being so common. I‘ve heard he‘s a terror on the staff at his places when it comes to reputation,” she warns. “However, exchanging adult products for food discounts is very creative. I’m impressed.”

“That’s just cause it involves food. Otherwise, you’d be all blushy and hissing at me not to discuss that room with you, innocent little creature that you aren’t.”

They reach the upstairs flat that is now an office and dining area. It took George a little over a year after Fred’s death before he’d do anything to the flat, and she knows that Fred’s room is still like it was when he died. Angelina used to worry about George spending time in there, but the grieving process is different for everyone, so she accepts it. Hermione’s just glad that George was able to heal and mostly move on after losing his twin.

“I’m neither innocent nor particularly little,” she tells him matter-of-factly. The food smells delicious, so she goes straight to the table and sits down. “I see how this is, Weasley. Buy me amazing food in an attempt to get me over for lunch more often.”

“You always figure out my schemes, Granger. You’re such a pain in the arse.” He hands her a bottle of water and sits down. “It still has the sealed cap on, so you don’t have to worry about my lacing it with anything interesting.”

“As if I’d trust a sealed cap around a talented wizard.” She snorts and proceeds to perform a few simple charms to determine that the water is, indeed, safe to drink.

“I know not to prank you, love. You’d hand me my bollocks in a jar if I ever tried," he says matter-of-factly, quoting her favorite threat for the men in her life. After he sorts their food, which is some kind of chicken with rice creation that looks really quite good, he looks at her. “So, busy week?”

“Very.” She smiles wryly. “That obvious?”

“To those who know you well.” He starts to eat but keeps sneaking looks at her. “You going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to be sneaky?”

“You can try for sneaky, and I’ll go for distant and uncommunicative.”

“Try? I’ll succeed but I’ve already blown my chance, so you’re just going to have to take pity on an old man and tell me what’s got you so stressed.”

“I don’t know this word pity of which you speak.”

He laughs. “I highly doubt there are many words you don’t know. Also, I’m more obstinate than you are, so just give up and tell me.”

“Obstinate?”

“I’ve actually been reading that ‘word a day’ calendar that you gave me for Christmas. Proud?”

“I would be except I gave you that ten years ago.”

“Eh, words don’t change over years. I’m impressing Angie a lot. Seems she likes hearing me sound clever. Who’d have thunk it?”

“Not me, considering she married you.”

“Now, now. Play nice. I’d hate to send you back to that stuffy office with your nose grown out or your ears flopping on your shoulders.”

“Honestly, it’s just been a busy time right now, so I’m a little tense. Work has been a nightmare, with my boss taking a brief sabbatical, of sorts, and a new case that’s requiring a lot of attention. My personal life has been full, too, and I can’t really understand Hugo the last few days. He’s become a leech with red hair.”

George listens and frowns. “The boys behaved that way with me and Angie when we had that rough patch a few years ago. Anything happen that would make him think you were upset?”

“No, not that I can think of.” While she’s upset over the situation with Teddy, that’s not anything Hugo would know about. “He acted similarly when Ron first started dating Mel and when Rose went off to school, so maybe he’s noticed that I’m stressed and is being very close so I’m not alone. He worries about that, you know? Him going to school with Rose in September, and me being on my own.” She smiles. “When do our children start to behave like they’re the parents?”

“As soon as they become aware of how much we need them,” George says. “Mary doesn’t play favorites, so she just splits her clingy time between both of us. Fred is always underfoot around my birthday because he’s realized it’s difficult for me, and Gideon is clingy with Angie around the anniversary of, well, you know. Rough time in our house.”

“That’s the truth. Rose did that after Ron left, stepping up and making sure I didn’t fall apart,” she admits. “I wasn’t going to, of course, but I guess she instinctively knew that I needed more hugs than usual.”

“So why do you need more hugs right now than usual?” He takes a bite of his food and waits expectantly.

“I don’t.” She shrugs and takes another bite. It’s really good, though she wouldn’t expect less from anything bearing Zabini’s name. The man has the golden touch when it comes to investments, and the restaurants he opens are among the best in Wizarding Britain.

“Well, since you don’t want to talk, I guess I will.“ George puts down his fork and shakes his head. “I want to tell you a story. You want to hear it?”

“Sure.” She listens as she keeps eating.

“See, there’s this bloke. Nice and responsible man, pretty clever in most matters except those pertaining to women. Handsome fellow but just lacking experience when it comes to the troublesome creatures we call women,” George tells her. “This bloke has a dashing, intelligent friend, though, who is an expert in, well, all matters, nearly. So, he goes to him for advice. Says there’s this bird, gorgeous and smart with great legs and even greater ti---other bits, but he feels like an idiot every time he’s around her.”

As George talks, she frowns, not really sure why he’s telling her such a story. “All right?”

“Seems he used to have a crush on his bird, and she doesn’t know he’s alive, in the man-woman way. He tells his amazing friend about her, mentions she’s just a little older so he thinks maybe that’s an issue, and that they work together now, so this crush of his youth is back and even worse than before. You still with me?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, setting down her fork as she stares at him and shifts slightly.

“Well, his friend does something that isn’t that clever. He assumes this bird is from the year ahead of the bloke, maybe two if he had the crush when he was fifteen,” George continues. “So, he gives advice without really thinking too much about it. Says the bloke needs to make her see him as a man, needs to stop whining and wanking and not going for it, and suggests that he just say ‘fuck it’ and snog her senseless one night.”

“That was very bad advice.” She sighs, not even bothering to scold him for his language because it's useless, and leans back in her chair. She's keeping her comments vague because she doesn’t want to assume again, like she did with Harry, and end up wrong.

“Yeah, well, the friend can’t be amazingly brilliant all the time or people might get an inferiority complex when they’re around him. Anyway, so, the bloke thanks the friend for his advice and goes along his way. The friend doesn’t think much else about it until he sees the bloke grinning like the hippogriff who caught the fish a couple of weeks later, and is very smug at his advice obviously working. Then, the friend sees one of _his_ good friends at a party. Clever woman, pretty and sweet, and he notices she’s acting weird. He also sees the bloke looking at her in a way that can only be described as besotted and enamored. Now, the friend has his stupid moments, but he starts to put the pieces together and realizes how bloody wrong he’d been all those weeks ago.”

“Is that the end of the story?”

“No. See, the friend notices the bloke leaving the party awhile later, looking for all the world like he’s trying not to cry, which isn’t like him at all. Then he sees _his_ friend, and she’s smiling this fake ‘the world is wonderful’ smile that he can recognize instantly, and he knows something’s happened. Basically, the friend has managed to fuck up two lives by giving bad advice without considering all the circumstances, and now he isn’t sure what he can do, if anything, to make things better.”

“Maybe the friend needs to just stay out of things, since his interference was obviously a mistake.”

“Yeah, that’d be the smart thing, but, like I said, the friend isn’t always smart,” George says with a wry smile. He sighs and looks at her steadily. “If I’d had any idea that Teddy was talking about you, I wouldn’t have been so careless with my advice.”

“So you’re the reason he asked me out?” she asks.

“No. You’re the reason he asked. I just merely lit the fire under him to get him to stop wanting without taking a chance.” He pauses. “I knew about him breaking things off with Victoire before he even told her. They never really fit, you know? I love my niece, but she’s got different goals in life than Ted does, and, well, she definitely takes after Bill and Fleur in being vain and occasionally vapid along with that cleverness. So when Ted mentioned this woman, an ideal woman according to him, I was glad to hear that he‘d found someone who made him sound like a pathetic tosser, cause we blokes in relationships require that others join us in sounding that way.” 

“It’s such a mess, George,” she whispers. “We ended things on Friday, and Ron and Harry know, and neither of them is exceptionally happy about it.”

“I’ll listen, if you want to talk,” he offers sincerely. “I won’t even make fun of you for finding yourself an attractive younger man to satisfy your naughty cravings. Darn, I guess I just did. But, seriously, I owe you for listening years ago.”

“Don’t make fun. I’m really not in the mood for ridicule over my relationship.” She hesitates a moment before she speaks. “Tell me that it’s wrong and I should just let him go.”

“I can tell you that, but it doesn’t necessarily make it true. Do you want me to lie to you?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, I can’t. You value honesty too much. Why did things end?”

“God, choose a reason. There are enough of them.” She laughs dryly. “I needed time, and he was tired of keeping secrets.”

“And a month, to him, was an eternity, yeah?” George shakes his head. “I remember those days. God, feels like a lifetime ago. You tried talking to him? Working out a compromise? I mean, going from sneaking around to completely over isn’t leaving much room.”

“We never really talked about it,” she admits. “I kept putting it off because I told myself it was temporary, and he just doesn’t see any problem with us being together if we like each other.”

“Mistake number one, then.”

“I told him some of my concerns, about the age difference and our close relationship since he was a baby, and I told him I was worried what people might say and how it would affect the children,” she explains. “We just never sat down and seriously weighed our choices. It just kept being ignored, mostly due to me, and then erupted into a fight that ended it all.”

“Do you want to be with him?” George asks. “I mean, in a talk about it seriously and deal with the consequences sort of way? Does he even have any idea what will face you both if you do try? Beyond what you mentioned.”

“I don’t think he does. He’s so idealistic, you know? The world is rather black and white at that age, I suppose, even if he is mature.” She bites her lip before she slowly nods. “I do want to be with him, but I’m not sure I can deal with everything if we try.”

“Fuck. Okay then. So, if you do this, you know people are going to talk, obviously.” George summons a self-writing quill and piece of parchment and activates it. “You love lists, so let’s make one, shall we? I’m sure you’ve already made a dozen, so you’ll feel right at home. Reasons why this isn’t a good idea and you should just enjoy what you had but let him go.”

“I’m tired of lists,” she mutters. “All I’ve done for days is write and think and try to figure out how I feel. It took me years to get the courage to even kiss Ron, yet it’s only been a few weeks since I started dating Teddy, so it’s probably useless to expect that I’d be ready to make such a huge decision yet.”

“You haven’t made a list with me yet. I’ll start, and you can add things as we go along,” George tells her. “The gossip will be impossible. Even those who don’t care a whit will whisper and murmur because that’s how people are. To strangers and enemies, you’ll fall into one of three categories: the seductive older woman, the conniving slag out to ruin a poor boy’s life, and the lonely desperate divorcee. To your friends, it’ll be broken into groups who support you so long as you’re happy and not breaking the law and those who don’t understand or can’t understand.”

“This isn’t helping.”

“Hush. I’m enjoying this.” George considers it a moment before he says seriously, “Mum will use it as an excuse. You know she’s been looking for one since the dreaded D word was introduced into the Weasley family tree, and I fear this will be enough. She’ll have some moral reason, no doubt, but we know that it’ll basically come down to the fact that you divorced Ron, and she’s still uncomfortable about all that.”

She nods once. “I’m sure this will provide her with a certain amount of glee, most likely causing her to feel justified all those years ago in believing that I was a scarlet woman.” She pauses. "However, I hope I'm wrong because she did eventually accept the divorce, even if it was an 'awful Muggle idea'."

“Maybe so, but that took time. As for the rest of the family, I don’t know.” George shrugs. “If we’re being absolutely blunt, I doubt most of us care as long as you're happy, but, if Mum turns, that means you’d be out of any family functions or parties. The fact that it's _Teddy_ and not some random younger man will be an issue, you know? He's family and you're family, so it's a little weird.”

“Right,” she murmurs. “Depending on how others feel, it spreads amongst my friends, too.”

“Yeah, which isn’t fair but it is realistic. Also, Harry mentioned that there’s a rumor going around up there about your boss retiring. If he does, you’re positioned to get a promotion that would make your career. Teddy works in your office, which makes it very awkward and anyone vying for the position against you could use it to slander you or any other of those political games people like that play,” he continues. “Not only at work, but in the public eye, too. You do a lot of charity work and are a known personality, even if you hate the attention.”

“That’s on my list of cons. We’ve not broken any rules, but people might see it differently.”

“The age difference isn’t really a huge thing for most people because he’s past the age of consent and we live for centuries, but the fact that he’s so close makes it more depraved to some. Hugo and Rose will have to endure taunts about their mum stealing from the pram and who knows what other cruel things children can come up with.”

“That’s the main reason I couldn’t just give in and go for it,” she tells him. “I don’t want them hurt. Ron threatened to become involved if they were affected, too, and I can’t lose them.”

George shakes his head. “Ron wouldn’t do that. He might threaten it in the heat of the moment, but he’d hex anyone who said anything bad about you. He loves you, regardless of who you’re shagging. And the children are tough, just like their parents, but it might be tough on them.”

“Logically, I know that, but it’s still a fear. I also know they're strong, but I want to protect them as much as I can because that's what parents do.”

“And fears rarely are rational, so I understand that.” He reaches over to look at the parchment and grins suddenly. “Oh, when Lee finds out, he’ll host a ‘sexy older women and their hot young men’ dedication hour. Then I’ll have to visit him at St. Mungos as they attempt to reattach his bollocks once you’re done with him.”

“I’d think he learned his lesson after the ‘break-up’ hour when he heard about me and Ron divorcing,” she mutters crossly.

“That was years ago, and the impotency hex didn’t last nearly long enough. He’ll do a dedication and then hide,” he says confidently. "Now, where were we?"

"Listing all the many reasons why Teddy and I having a relationship shouldn't make any sense." She sighs. “When you put everything this way, it sounds like there isn’t even really a choice. I’ve seen it on paper, but having it put into someone else’s words, knowing you see the same problems, it’s just irrefutable.”

“We haven’t even touched upon your emotional issues,” George points out. “Your sense of failure after the divorce, your fear of going through that again and taking a chance on something that isn’t guaranteed, your habit of hiding behind logic when you’re scared, your inability to be brave emotionally until you’re backed into a corner, your practice of putting almost everyone else’s needs ahead of your own, and your ineffectiveness when it comes to dealing with feelings over thought.”

“I don’t---” she starts to deny it but sees the stubborn expression on George’s face and knows he’ll be rude enough to give bloody examples to support his claims if pushed. “Fine. You can add those to the list of cons, though I don't think they're necessarily negative traits."

"Already done." He nods at the fast moving quill. "Shall we start the list of pros or continue the cons? We haven't really delved into the issues facing you both if you get together and have to consider the future as more than just a year or two."

"Actually, I don't think I need a list for that. I've got enough immediate concerns without thinking about things that might never become a worry. As for pros, he makes me happy," she says simply. She thinks about their conversation and runs her hand through her hair as she finally acknowledges a few personal truths. "After all this, I think it's apparent what I have to do.”

George studies her and slowly smiles. “Yeah, I think it is.”

When she sees his smile, she realizes just what he's done. The bloody prat knows her too well, obviously, because he's just manipulated her perfectly. By forcing her to acknowledge some of her primary concerns and confirming that someone else agrees about them being valid worries, he's managed to get her to accept what she's been feeling but refusing to acknowledge for days. 

There are a lot of negatives to consider in regards to having a relationship with Teddy, serious concerns and fears, but there are also a lot of positives, reasons why it's worth the risk, regardless of how terrifying it is to make such a bold decision. Based on his smile, George is focused on those positives and most likely thinks she should, too. She scowls at him because he has the annoying ability to make sense out of chaos. “There are times that I really hate you, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Fortunately, those times are rare and never last that long.” His smile fades as he stares at her. “Life’s too short for regret, Hermione. Fred and I had plans and dreams that were lost in a moment of falling debris. If we hadn‘t waited, hadn‘t expected the future to always be before us, maybe things would have been different. But you can‘t let the past and loss make you live in fear because that‘s not really living. You told me that a long time ago, and you were right.”

“I’ve been scared,” she confesses. “So very scared, from the moment I realized that what I felt for Teddy could develop into something else, and I was so selfish that I don’t even know if he’d want to take a chance now, but I can’t not try or I’ll always wonder what if.”

“You really like him that much?” George asks. “I mean, it’s not something that I ever would have predicted, but I can actually sort of see it now.”

“Funny, isn’t it?” She shakes her head. “He’s young and actually believes that this will be easy, so I actually worry about reality being too much for him. I mean, I’ve been thinking about the consequences so much that I’m at least prepared, but he’s caught up in this ideal world where people are understanding and accepting. It’s going to be a harsh lesson, I’m afraid, and that’s actually one of my issues as to why I should be strong enough to just let him go and enjoy what we had while we had it.”

“He’s a big boy, Hermione. It might hurt, but that’s life. He has to grow up sometime.” He reaches across the table and squeezes her hand. “Even if it turns out to be a mistake or doesn’t go well, you know I’m here, right? I mean, I’ll still make fun of you for having a boy toy and being such a wicked woman, but it’ll be done with love.”

She laughs. “I know, George. And that really means a lot.” She squeezes his hand because she really needed this, even if she didn‘t know it. For days, she's been so consumed with thoughts and feelings until she's finally reached a point where she has to accept that she wants to try, even if she‘s scared and worried. “Thank you for just being you. Ron wasn’t ready for me to move on, and Harry worries about Teddy, so I appreciate an unbiased view. I’ve been thinking all this for days, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually make a choice until you told me how wrong it was to feel like I do.”

“Like I said, push you into a corner, and you finally remember that you’re a Gryffindor,” George tells her with a slightly smug smile. “I’m not unbiased, love. I ache at the thought of everything you’re risking, of what Teddy’s risking, and of what you two will have to endure just because you’ve found happiness with someone the world at large won’t deem appropriate. I fell in love with my brother’s girlfriend, so I know what that’s like, and it‘s not easy at all. If you can persevere, though, it’s so fucking amazing. Don’t lose sight of each other amidst all the concerns.”

“I just don’t want the children hurt.” She’s still concerned about their reaction and how this could affect them from outside sources. It’s not like Mel, whom they don’t know and aren’t close to like they are with Teddy. She shakes her head. “If not for them, I’d have possibly made a choice sooner.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. I’m rather surprised that it hasn’t taken you longer, actually. Teddy would have gray hair and walk with a cane by the time I figured you’d be ready to make such a drastic decision,” George confides.

“If I had waited until I was completely sure, I’d have probably been too old to enjoy a relationship.” She smiles slightly. “I know I hide behind logic and protect myself emotionally by thinking too much, but I’m trying.”

“Trying is half the battle,” he tells her. “Now, you asked earlier about an end to my story. I can’t say it’s an end, as I hope it’s simply a beginning, but the friend spoke to _his_ friend and hopefully didn’t make things worse by helping her realize she had feelings for the bloke and was ready to talk to him about a possible future. The friend told her that the best advice he could give was to communicate and get all these worries out in the open instead of ignoring them or hiding behind them to protect herself from the risks that come with a romantic relationship.”

“The friend gives pretty good advice, but his friend is reaching a point when there’s been enough talking. Even if she’s very appreciative of the discussion and support.” 

“The friend realizes that he’s becoming too smug about helping and figures it might be a good idea to bring out the chocolate cake he bought for pudding.”

“His friend reminds him that chocolate cake doesn’t make up for being smug. However, she certainly won’t refuse a large slice before she has to go back to work and try to figure out when and how to discuss things with the bloke.” 

As George smiles and goes to get the cake, she sips her water and thinks about her schedule. She’s tempted to talk to Teddy today, but she knows better than to rush into something when they wouldn’t have time to really discuss it all. So, she decides that she’ll go see him tomorrow after work. Hugo will be with Ron, and they’ll have time to talk, really talk, and figure out where they go from here.


	34. Intention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to see Teddy

The hunch about Warrington proves to be correct. This news is waiting for Hermione when she arrives to work on Friday morning, and it sets the tone for the entire day. There is still investigating to be done to find out the details, but it’s an important piece of information that she’ll be glad to share with the team during Monday’s meeting. She breezes through meetings that are successful and productive, has lunch with Harry who claims he doesn’t know why Ginny acted strangely yesterday, smiles at Teddy several times throughout the day as she thinks about her plan for after work, and even manages to make it through an entire conference with Shacklebolt without feeling the urge to smack him upside the head for one of his opinionated rants or another.

By the time six o’clock rolls around, she has her desk straightened, the immediate paperwork taken care of, and nothing in a state that will make her feel as if she’s neglecting work over the weekend. Once she steps outside the Ministry, she removes her robe and shrinks it so she can put it into her bag. She took care with her clothing this morning because she wanted that extra confidence that comes from dressing nicely when she faced Teddy; her skirt falls just below her knees and is a lovely shade of blue, and her white blouse has a modest neckline that accentuates her cleavage.

All in all, she feels reasonably prepared for seeing him. Perhaps she should have given him some warning of her intentions, but she didn’t want to confuse him or worry him, so she kept it to herself all day. Her talk with George yesterday did wonders for her frame of mind. She’s always been the sort of person who is hesitant to rush forward, wanting to take time to think and plan and logically deduce the best course of action, but, once she _does_ set her mind on something, she commits completely. She might not be rash, might still have fears and doubts, but she feels secure and focused in a way that she hasn’t in weeks, and it’s a bloody wonderful feeling to have.

After walking away from the Ministry, Hermione ducks into a nearby alley so she can Apparate to Teddy’s flat. Since she is showing up unannounced, she doesn’t want to be rude and Floo over, which means she’ll just Apparate near his building instead. She arrives in another alley, which makes her idly consider just how much time she actually has spent in dirty alleys since learning how to Apparate twenty years ago. Too much, she finally decides as she walks to his building.

There isn’t a lift, so she has to walk up the three flights of stairs in heels and a skirt that is too tight for constantly lifting her legs. By the time she reaches the third floor landing, she feels far less presentable than she did just a few minutes ago. Her white blouse is damp after she sweated while walking from the alley here and then up the stairs, and she’s afraid there might be a ladder in the back of her stockings near her heel because of the bloody new shoes. Still, she doesn’t dwell on those minor issues because this is important and worth more than a sweaty shirt.

She takes a moment to tidy her hair and straighten her clothes, finding herself hedging a little as she looks at the door of his flat. The excitement of finally having her mind set on a definite goal seems to have faded somewhat now that she has to deal with communicating and hoping he hasn’t changed his mind. It’s a logical fear because he’s young and might already have got tired of waiting, but she doesn’t think it’s happened because his hair flashed turquoise earlier when she smiled at him. That gives her hope, regardless of fears and concerns.

“Stop being a coward,” she mutters as she raises her hand and knocks confidently. She listens for footsteps and the sound of the door opening, but doesn’t hear anything except an annoying yippy dog in the flat across the hall. She bites her lip and knocks again. It’s just past six, so surely he’s home. But, after a third knock, it’s obvious that he isn’t. Her shoulders sag, and she feels utterly deflated. Of course, she’s being selfish again, she knows, since she was doing everything to suit her plans without considering him, but she just wanted to surprise him and not worry him for most of the day.

After one more knock, just in case he’s in the loo, she turns and leans back against the door. The building is quiet, save for that stupid dog, and she considers just Apparating home to eat a tub of ice cream and watch something mindless on the telly. It’s nearly dinner time, though, and ice cream, while tasty, isn’t a suitable substitute. There are several places within walking distance of his flat, so she’ll go get take-away and then go home to be depressed and worry over whether he’s out with another woman and analyze why that makes her feel so completely jealous when she’s the one who let him go. 

When she reaches the ground floor, she glares at her shoes and then looks around carefully. Once she determines that no one is around, she removes her wand and slips off the torturous heels. A quick Transfiguration leaves her with a pair of comfortable trainers that don’t suit her work clothes but, really, the rush and happiness of her day has faded in the course of four knocks, so she just doesn’t care. She puts on the new shoes and leaves his building, walking aimlessly down the street to see what smells good for dinner.

The smell of Italian food pulls her out of her thoughts, and she looks up to see that she’s standing in front of the little restaurant where Teddy brought her on their first date that wasn’t really a date. She sighs and starts to walk past before she looks at the door. There’s nothing wrong with dining alone, and hearing other people’s conversations is a better alternative to the drone of the telly, so she turns and steps inside.

It isn’t too crowded yet, though more people are coming in behind her, so she’s probably lucky she arrived early enough to beat the dinner rush. The hostess gets a menu and leads her towards the back near the kitchen. Halfway there, she notices something in her peripheral vision and glances to her left, stopping in her tracks when she realizes that it’s Teddy. 

He’s bent over a book, and there’s a glass of wine and breadsticks on his table. She looks at the other seat, relieved to note that it’s empty. If he’s reading a book, he’s unlikely to be meeting a gorgeous young woman who doesn’t have the amount of baggage that she has, isn’t it? The hostess gives her an impatient look, which earns a slight frown. She reaches for the menu and says, “I see a friend over there, so I’ll join him.”

Hopefully.

After a moment to once again gather her courage, she walks around the tables until she reaches Teddy’s. When she stops near him, he glances up, his eyes widening when he realizes who’s standing there. “I noticed you have an extra chair at your table, and it’s rather crowded, so I thought I’d ask if you’d like company.”

“What---I mean, sure. I hate eating alone anyway,” Teddy says slowly, looking at her curiously as she sighs in relief and sits down across from him.

“Me too.” She nervously strokes the top of the menu as she tries to figure out what to say. This isn’t her plan, and she’s pants at improvisation. This also isn’t a good setting for the talk they need to have, but she has to think of something to say or things will become awkward.

“What are you doing here, Hermione?”

Or he could cut to the chase and ask a blunt question that leaves her speechless. “I was hungry.” She cringes when she realizes how foolish she sounds. “That is, I was in the neighborhood and planned to get something for dinner.”

“In the neighborhood?” he repeats slowly. “This isn’t anywhere near where you usually go, is it? Especially on a Friday night.”

“It’s where you are,” she tells him simply, meeting his gaze as she bites her lip.

“Oh.” Good. It’s only fair that he be speechless at some point, too. He frowns in thought and taps his fingers on the edge of the table. “What does it matter where I am?”

“I stopped by your flat to see you,” she explains. “But you weren’t there, obviously, since you’re here. My initial plan was to surprise you and we’d talk and figure things out. Now, well, I’m not really sure as I didn’t have a contingency plan. I usually do have one, a contingency plan, but I didn't for this because I didn't think it would call for one, and therefore when you weren't there, I didn't have it, so I went to get takeaway but then you were here.”

Teddy nods slowly before he says, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, you realize? What plan? And figure things out? Do you mean _things_? Or, uh, am I missing something? Wait, I know I am, because you’ve got that focused look on your face that you get when you’ve set your mind to something.”

Before she can reply, a waitress comes over to take her order. She hasn’t even looked at the menu, so she just orders wine and spaghetti, because she’s sure they’ll have that available. Once the woman walks away, she concentrates on Teddy. “I’m sorry. I’m going about this the wrong way, but I had it all figured out in my head, and I got flustered when my plan was thrown off,” she admits. “I don’t do rash or spontaneous very well, as you know, so I’m trying to adjust as quickly as possible.”

“I know. The fact that I’m starting to think this act of spontaneity is in regards to us means a lot,” he says with a slight smile. “Even if I’m confused and have no idea what you’re nattering on about.”

“Right now, I think I’ve somehow managed to even confuse myself.” She smiles wryly and ducks her head. “It is about us. Or the possibility of us. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking---”

“God. More? Can anyone in the world actually think as much as you do?”

“Yes, more. Now stop interrupting,” she scolds as she glances up at him. “I asked for time, which you couldn’t give me, but I’ve had it now anyway. I’ve realized a few things, and I’d like to talk if you’re willing. I mean really talk and discuss this like we didn’t really do before.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it? We talked so much, yet never about the important life-changing things we should have mentioned.” He nudges her leg gently. “I’d like to proudly point out that I’ve used this last week to think, too. I know, shocking, but it’s true. I came to understand a few things better than I did before, actually, so maybe there’s something to this idea of time and thinking after all.”

“It is shocking,” she agrees, having to smile as she nudges his leg back. “Did it hurt when you tried to think? I’m sure your brain was stunned at being put to use after years of quiet.”

“There was a time or two that I thought it might stop and rebel on me, but it pulled through bravely.” He shifts in his chair and touches her knee. “I’ve missed you, insults and all.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” She glances around and then looks at him.

“This isn’t a good place for a serious talk,” he says before she can. “So, why don’t we put that talk on hold for now and enjoy a good dinner? Afterward, we can go to my flat and talk, and I even promise not to attempt to have my wicked way with you if this talk goes well and we, uh, if _things_ are okay.”

“No, it isn’t, so I like your suggestion of dinner then serious talking. I’ll choose to pretend I didn’t hear about schemes involving wicked ways being had,” she says primly, reaching beneath the table to squeeze his hand tightly. “So, how have you been?”

“The wicked ways are half the fun.” He leers playfully, watching her carefully as he looks between her and the other patrons around them. She blushes faintly but doesn’t hiss at him to stop or warn him to be careful, and his smile widens. “I’ve been okay. Not great, for reasons you understand, but work is going well and my personal life is starting to look back up. How have you been? You‘re so busy that I hardly even see you at the office lately.”

“Busy,” she says, hiding a smile as she picks up her wineglass. “Seriously, work has been a good distraction from my personal life, and Hugo keeps me busy when I’m at home. You seem to be enjoying the work with Greg.”

“Oh, I am.” He smiles. “It’s rough and challenging, but it’s amazing, too. I’m actually helping him on a third case now, and I’m really pretty good at it. That’s nice, you know? Finding something that’s just mine that I’m good at.”

“You like it more than magical law?” she asks curiously. She hasn’t had time to meet with Greg to discuss Teddy’s work, but he must be doing well if he’s been asked to help with another case.

“They’re totally different in many ways, but the similarities are the things that tend to appeal to me,” he says thoughtfully. He glances down before looking up at her. “Greg, uh, mentioned the possibility of my working for him, should I decide that being a solicitor didn’t suit me. I haven’t agreed yet or anything, but I’ve been considering it. I wanted to talk to you about it, not as my boss but as my friend. I hadn’t yet because I didn’t want you to think I was trying to run away or get away from you because of last Friday.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that, Ted. It’s an amazing opportunity if you really like the work. You’ve mentioned not being sure if law was right for you, so maybe you’ve found something that is. I’d suggest speaking to Greg about it more in depth. Ask questions and maybe even speak to someone else in the department, too, so you’ll have enough information to make a decision.”

“Right. He just mentioned it yesterday, so I haven’t had time to write out questions, but I think I’m going to look into it. I wouldn’t transfer without notice or anything, but the work really is rewarding, even if it’s not that happy. Also, logically,” he pauses, “if you and I do, uh, well, get back together, it would be best if I wasn’t in the same department. I know there aren’t really any rules about it, but I wouldn’t want to put your career in jeopardy, either. And, no, that isn’t a factor in my choice regarding the offer, so you don’t need to feel guilty or anything.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want that to be a reason you considered such an important decision,” she tells him. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the logical thinking, Lupin. I daresay that I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Shouldn’t talk about rubbing when we still have to get through a serious talk that will most likely give us both headaches,” he mutters, glaring playfully as their food arrives. “Seriously, though, I wasn’t lying about using this time apart to think. I know I haven’t really considered a lot of the stuff that worries you, but I’ve tried now. Not sure I can ever really understand some of it, of course. Other parts, well, they make more sense.”

“I’m glad.” She’s surprised that he thought about her worries, but pleased because maybe he can finally see where her fears are coming from. It’s hard to communicate when they’re both on different pages, or as it has seemed in this case, in entirely different chapters, and she’s trying to make an effort to see things from his viewpoint and not be entirely selfish about their relationship, should they proceed into being more than friends again.

“We’ll talk more about that later, though.” He smiles sheepishly and starts to eat his ziti. “So, who was that odd bloke waiting for you this morning? He gave off a bad vibe.”

“A bad vibe?” She frowns in thought. “I don’t necessarily see that, but Flint isn’t necessarily the friendliest of men. He was getting some information for me about Warrington. I helped him out in a discrimination case years ago, actually, and he occasionally provides me with his services whenever I need someone in that area of the world.”

“What area?” he asks in between bites.

“The Pureblood society and all its hidden secrets and gossip. Flint is a Pureblood, though he also happens to be a former Death Eater, so he isn’t necessarily accepted by most of those families anymore. He’s tolerated, for the most part, which means he’s privy to information and ignored.”

“A Death Eater?” Teddy scowls. “You do business with one of them?”

“He served fifteen years in Azkaban for his crimes, which obviously didn’t include murder or rape since he was released. I’m not friends with the man, but I can’t very well hold the past against him when he’s shown himself to be trying to fit into the world and isn’t parroting the beliefs of his childhood. I’d rather not bring up your cousin but forgiveness might be easier if it’s family compared to a stranger, but it isn’t necessarily fair.”

“I just---they killed my parents. I know Draco was one, I’ve seen the Dark Mark, but it doesn’t mean I like any of them or accept that they’ve had a change of heart,” he says. “Draco’s family, so, like you said, that makes it possible for forgiveness.”

“I know they did, Teddy. I was hurt by them, nearly killed, and even tortured by them while Draco stood and looked on, but I can’t very well live my life in the past and blame them for bad choices and mistakes they made when they were kids,” she tells him. “It doesn’t mean I approve by any means nor does it mean I’m friends with them, but the cycle of hate and prejudice has to be broken or it just continues. In Flint’s case, he did his time and his actions show a man who is trying to find his place. I can have sympathy for that without condoning his past.”

“I know. The world isn’t black and white, but there are times when it’s really tough to live in the gray.” He sighs and shakes his head slightly. “What did this Flint bloke tell you about Warrington?”

“He gave me a little information that confirmed a suspicion I’d developed. Call it intuition, if you will, but it’s opened up a few leads that I’m following right now. Once I know something more definite, I plan to pass along the information. Right now, I think I should have something solid by the meeting on Monday. It’s nothing to prove his guilt anymore than what we already have, but it might help explain a few inconsistencies.”

“You’re not going to even give me a hint, are you?” He rolls his eyes. “That’s just evil. You know I’ll be dying of curiosity now.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to discuss anything until I know for sure. If it proves to be a false theory, it would just complicate things if you’d heard about it already,” she explains. “I hadn’t intended to bring it up, honestly, but you asked about Flint.”

He listens and nods. “You’re still evil, but I can understand that. You’ll just have to make it up to me later by distracting me from my curiosity.”

“If I’m evil then you’re definitely incorrigible,” she tells him. She smiles slightly after she takes a bite of her food. “You’re lucky that I’ve grown rather used to it and almost even find it endearing, at times.”

“You know, endearing is nearly as bad as cute,” he groans. “Sexy and arousing is much better.”

“I happen to like endearing.” She drinks her wine as she watches him, having to acknowledge just how much she missed this and missed him during the last week. 

True, they’ve put off the serious talk until after dinner, but, in a way, she’s glad because it’s given them a chance to catch up and become comfortable with each other again. The strained tension has faded mostly, and she feels much more confident about their upcoming talk than she did earlier, which is good. She’s ready to be honest and discuss their relationship and a possible future. For now, though, she’s enjoying dinner and conversation and just being with him again.


	35. Restoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy and Hermione have a Serious Talk

There is no lingering over dinner. Once they finish, Hermione argues about paying half the total until she finally gives up because Teddy’s being stubborn. The smile he flashes as he puts down the Muggle pounds is almost worth the defeat. Not quite, though, as she knows she’ll pay next time before he has an opportunity to protest. The fact that she can think ‘next time’ after the last week is liberating, in a way, and she can’t seem to stop touching Teddy casually or looking at him.

Of course, the touching happens beneath the table because she just isn’t fond of displaying affection in public, whether she’s hiding a relationship or not. She held hands with Ron and would occasionally kiss him lightly but the latter wasn’t a common occurrence unless it was on the cheek. That habit isn’t something that’s likely to change, regardless of who she’s dating. 

Still, she’s been absolutely daring tonight over dinner. She’s stroked his leg with hers, fondled his knee, and deliberately leaned towards him in ways that draw attention to her breasts. It doesn’t sound like much compared to some of the tales she hears from friends, but it’s more than she normally does. She isn't sure whether this is because she's come to accept that the relationship is moving forward, or because she's simply too weak to resist the impulse to touch him.

By the time he receives his change, she’s ready to go back to his flat for their serious talk. Depending on how that goes, she's also hoping for something more to happen after. Teddy holds the door for her as they leave the restaurant, and they start walking back to his building. They haven't said anything since they left the restaurant, but the silence between them isn’t awkward: it’s tense in the way that she’s missed. Her skin is tingling and she feels flushed from some of the thoughts in her mind, so she focuses her attention on their upcoming talk and not her depraved fantasies.

Teddy, however, has other ideas because he suddenly reaches for her hand and pulls her deep into a dark alley. She doesn’t even have time to ask what he thinks he’s doing before she’s pushed against a brick wall as he kisses her. Her thoughts of protesting such behavior are replaced by desire as she tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls him closer. She can distantly hear the street noise and knows it’s too dangerous to snog in an alley where anyone walking past might see. Besides, she's been so focused on them having their talk and now, here they are alone, and she's already snogging him. This is not talking! But she can’t make herself pull back yet.

“Want you so much,” Teddy whispers in between kisses. He moves his hand behind her and grips her bum as he moves his other hand to her breast. When she feels him press against her belly, she whines softly and deepens the kiss.

The feel of her skirt sliding up her legs rouses her sensibilities, and she reluctantly breaks the kiss. “We can’t,” she murmurs, reaching down to grip his wrist lightly. She glances at the entrance to the alley, glad to see that no one is there.

“We’re alone,” he points out as he kisses her cheek. “So far down here that no one's likely to see us in the shadows.” He nibbles on her neck. “And you know we’re not going to be able to talk until this is out of our systems, not after all that foreplay during dinner, you flirt.”

“It wasn’t foreplay,” she protests, moaning as his teeth scrape against the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “And someone _could_ see, even with the shadows.”

“It _was_ foreplay. The touching and licking your fork and looking at me as if you wanted to do the most sinful things imaginable to me and my poor defenseless body.” He punctuates the last few words with nips and licks while he squeezes her breast. Her nipples are hard, and he moves his thumb slowly back and forth over her shirt, torturing her as he rocks forward.

“Teddy, you should stop. We can't do this.” Her words are more breathless and aroused than forceful and commanding, which might explain why he ignores her and slowly pulls her skirt higher.

“Why not? God, you wear these bloody stockings just to torment me,” he accuses as he drags his fingertips along the bare skin above the silk. “I know you do. All I can think of when I see them is these gorgeous legs wrapped around my waist or over my shoulders as I slide into you over and over.”

She squeaks and shakes her head when the back of his hand presses against the crotch of her knickers. “This isn’t talking,” she says. “And stop talking in such a way.”

“It's not talking but I need to stop talking?" His tone is amused, and she doesn't have to see his face to know he's smiling.

"You know what I mean." He licks her neck, which is quite distracting when she's trying to argue. "Don't say such things."

"Why? Because it drives you wild even if you don’t want to admit it?” He smirks before he presses his hand more firmly against her dampening knickers. “You like hearing the things I want to do, hearing my fantasies and acting them out. Words excite you, even if you foolishly feel ashamed for finding it arousing.”

“What have you been doing the last week? Because you certainly weren’t this bold before.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to read. Those silly romance novels of mine are good for more than just escapism.” He lowers his head and kisses her hard, curling his tongue around hers as he runs his finger up and down her slit, pushing the cotton of her knickers against her as he does the things that he knows make her wet.

The sound of a loud horn pulls her back to herself. She turns her head to stare at the street and then pushes his hand out from beneath her skirt. “No. Not in a dirty alley like this.”

“Okay,” he finally says. He kisses her again before he slowly pushes her skirt back down. “I just thought---you kept looking at me like you wanted to _now_ without waiting. I, uh, well, I figured maybe it was one of your fantasies, since you still haven’t told me any.”

“It’s fine,” she says. She bites her lip before she decides to be honest. “It’s not that I wasn’t enjoying it, Teddy. I just don’t like doing such things in public, even if we’re hidden by shadows.”

“What if we’re hidden by magic?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows as he holds up his wand. “There are some benefits to being a wizard, you know?”

She has to laugh and shakes her head. “Not tonight. I think this is about as daring as I can get for one evening.”

“Ah, but not tonight insinuates that you aren’t ruling out the possibility. That’s good enough for now, I suppose,” he decides. He runs his fingers through his green hair and smiles sheepishly. “Mind if we Apparate to my flat? I, uh, don’t think anyone out there needs to see this.” He glances down at his obvious erection and then nods toward the street.

“Oh. Right. Uh, that might be for the best.” She takes his hand and concentrates before they arrive in the sitting room of his flat. “There. This is much better for talk---”

His lips capture her words as he kisses her. Once again, she feels a wall behind her back as he presses her next to his bookcase. Without the threat of being seen, she gives in to her desire and returns his kiss while she pulls his shirt up so she can touch his bare skin. He fumbles with the zip of his trousers, and she pushes her knickers down and wiggles until they fall around her ankles.

“Ow,” she mutters as she hits her elbow on the bookcase. She looks at him and arches her brow. "You do understand that this doesn't mean we're not going to talk, right?"

“Careful. And, yes, talking. As much talking as you want. Just _after_.” He finally gets his zip down and pushes his trousers and boxers around his thighs. She stares at his erection as he strokes it, licking her lips as she kicks off her knickers and leans against the wall.

“Planning to play with it all night or put it to use?” she asks in a bossy tone that she’s noticed he seems to enjoy. Tonight is no exception as his penis practically throbs in his hand when she speaks. 

“I wanna see your tits. Unfasten your blouse and show me,” he growls softly. She shudders at his tone, narrowing her eyes when she notices him smirk knowingly.

“Say please,” she challenges, lifting her chin slightly as she waits.

“I’m through saying please. Do it now,” he says in that same gruff tone that causes heat to spread throughout her body. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

She moves her hand beneath her skirt and lightly strokes herself, watching his reaction as he stares at the fabric hiding her hand from his view. “Do it then if you won’t ask nicely.”

“God, you’re killing me,” he accuses lowly before he lets go of his erection and reaches for her. He grips the sides of her blouse and rips, sending buttons flying all over the room.

“Bad boy. That’s a favorite shirt,” she scolds even as she arches her back and presents her breasts to him. He shoves her bra up and leans down, licking and sucking her hard nipples until she forgets all about the shirt.

“I’ll fix it later,” he mutters between licks and sucks. He rubs up against her leg, rocking forward to press his erection more firmly against her. He raises his head, hair falling across his eyes, and stares at her. “I want to be inside you, Hermione. Here. Now. No more time and waiting. Just---please?”

“Yes,” she whispers, reaching out to brush the turquoise and green colored locks away from his pretty eyes. “Here and now.”

He groans and kisses her while he pushes her skirt around her waist. He moves against her, but misses his target, sliding his erection along her wet lips without penetrating her. He tries again. The third time, she reaches down to grip him and help. It’s awkward, with the wall and standing up, and the angle is all wrong. She frowns and shifts when he starts to enter her, holding onto his shoulders as she tries to get into a better position.

“The stupid books never mention this part.” His words are soft and amused, which makes her laugh.

“Those books of yours are obviously not very realistic. Here, why don’t you grip my bum and lift me up. I’ll wrap my legs around you and try to use the leverage to, uh, bounce?” She grins. “Does one bounce when they’re pushed against a wall?”

“Guess we’ll find out.” He smiles and slides out of her so he can follow her instructions. Once he has her lifted, she moves her legs around him and they try again.

“Oh, that’s much, oh, better,” she says, gasping when he pushes inside of her completely. He glances down at her breasts, which are right there offered up to him, and leers.

“I like this,” he decides before he begins to move. After they shift into a better position against the wall, he watches her breasts as they begin to bounce. “I like how they move. Does it hurt with them flopping like that? Hurts a bit when I, uh, when I’m not supported.”

The tips of his ears turn red, and she bites her lip to keep from giggling. “Teddy, we’re shagging against the wall, which it seems you’ve been trying to do since we started dating, and you’re asking whether my breasts are sore?”

“Just concerned. I love watching your tits but not if it’s painful for you.” He kisses her when she starts to laugh and squeezes her bum just hard enough to make her whine. She returns the favor by moving her hand beneath his shirt and scratching his back, feeling him shudder as he thrusts forward hard.

Amusement is forgotten for the moment when the kiss deepens and he moves faster. She rolls her hips and pushes down against him, meeting his thrusts as her shirt gapes open even more. God, she loves kissing him. Tonight, he tastes of wine, tomatoes, and Teddy, and she can’t get enough of him. She loses herself in him as they keep moving together until his thrusts become faster and his hips jerk suddenly. She feels him spill inside her as he pulls his head back and grunts, arching his back as he buries himself deep inside her and comes.

His eyes are closed and his hair is now solidly green, his full lips parted as he inhales sharply, and she admires the muscles in his arms and neck as he trembles in release. For a second, she thinks he might drop her, because his grip loosens and he seems to have forgotten their precarious position, but he tightens his hold and leans forward to rest his head against her shoulder. She listens to the sound of him panting and wiggles slightly, trying to get friction where she needs it most.

“Let me,” he murmurs as he shifts her and balances her between himself and the wall. She feels his fingers on her clit as he slowly rocks against her, his spent cock moving in and out as his release drips on the floor. It doesn’t take much rubbing before she gasps and holds him while she comes.

After she stops shuddering, they just lean against the wall while they catch their breath. Eventually, he eases out of her, and she unwraps her legs. The floor is a mess, their clothes are in total disarray, and her stockings are damp from sweat. Another pair ruined, most likely, not that she can complain. They kiss again, slow and thorough, before he steps back.

“When you mentioned talking, I, uh, didn’t intend for the wicked way to be had first.” He smiles. “Though I think I’d be much more inclined for serious talks if it always happened in this order. You know, if you ever need incentive in the future.”

“I’ll remember that.” She laughs softly before grimacing at the floor. “We need to clean up then we do really need to have that talk. As enjoyable as this has been, it doesn’t solve anything.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been wanting to shag you for the past week, so it certainly took care of that. Surprisingly, though, it didn’t actually solve anything because I still want to shag you. A lot. And eventually in an alley where we might get caught just so I can see if you’ll be able to keep quiet or if you’ll end up making all those amazing noises that I love.”

“Hmph. I’m not at all shocked that you're still thinking about shagging,” she tells him dryly. “Now, we made a mess on the floor and you need to find buttons since you had the audacity to rip my shirt.”

“Do you think maybe we’re doing all these things to keep from having that talk?” he asks curiously. He uses his wand to summon the buttons while she performs a cleaning charm on the floor.

“Maybe,” she says honestly. “It could be unconscious, I suppose. If all goes badly, we’ve at least had one more time together first. Something like that.”

He looks at her steadily as his hair fades from green to purple. “Go use the toilet and then we’ll talk. No more putting it off, unconsciously or otherwise. This wasn‘t a last time, Hermione. It was just---well, us not resisting the urge for once.”

“By us, you mean me.” She holds up her hand. “No, it’s okay. If we’re going to talk, we need to promise to be honest and communicate or this won’t work at all. I’ll be right back.” She goes down the hall to use the toilet and clean up. After she washes her hands, she looks in the mirror and can barely recognize herself. Her hair is a complete disaster, there are marks on her neck and chest, and she looks happier than she has in days.

When she goes back into the sitting room, she smells fresh coffee and sees Teddy nervously pacing. He’s taken his shirt off and is just wearing a pair of black trousers that ride too low on his hips to be decent. She tries to be quiet so she can enjoy observing him in this unguarded moment, but a floorboard creaks, announcing her presence. 

As she enters the room, he looks up at her and smiles. “I put coffee on, but I can put on the kettle if you prefer tea,” he offers.

“Coffee is fine. If you have my buttons, I’ll fix my shirt real fast.”

“No, I’ll do it later. I said I would, after all. And, yes, that is me being a man since it means I get to ogle your chest while we talk.” He leers playfully and bites his lip. “So, how do we do this talking thing?”

“How do we talk?”

“I mean, do we sit and go over issues? Do you have an agenda? I remember how much you love those.”

“Teddy, I don’t have an agenda for this, and my initial plan won’t work considering our dinner and shag. I assume that normal talking would be sufficient.”

He nods. “Okay. I can do that then. Let me get the coffee then we can start.”

She sits down and gets comfortable while he fixes the coffee. She takes the cup from him and moves over slightly so he can sit next to her. “This is nice,” she says after a sip.

“It’s some foreign blend that smelled good. Bit strong, but I like it that way.” He looks at her expectantly, and she realizes he’s waiting for her to start.

“I still have worries and concerns about a relationship between us. No, let me talk. I think I’d have many of the same concerns regardless of whom I was dating, because the children would be affected regardless and my friends and family might dislike whomever it was, so I realized during the last week that maybe those issues are just a part of life.”

“They are,” he agrees. “I know we’re different, because of the age and closeness we’ve had over the years, but some problems are just part of any relationship. You take the good with the bad, you know?”

“I know that now. Despite my best efforts not to, a part of me compares this with my relationship with Ron, which isn’t fair at all. It’s not the same. But it’s the only relationship that I’ve ever had, so I just don’t have anything else for comparison. With Ron, we started dating when I was eighteen, were married a few years later, and had started a family a couple of years after that. It seemed that everyone knew from the time we were teenagers that we had feelings for each other, so there weren’t really any issues beyond my dedication to work and somewhat selfish tendencies, and his lack of direction at first and the standard quirks that any relationship tends to have.”

“You have been selfish, but I, uh, wasn’t necessarily that mature,” he admits. “I knew you had these worries, could even understand most of them, but I was impatient and didn’t understand nearly as well as I thought I did. I talked to Gram about us this week because I just needed advice from someone who might understand you or at least could help me figure out why these fears you have meant more than I did.”

“You talked to your grandmother? About us?” She blinks at him and blushes, just imagining what Andromeda Tonks must have had to say about that. “She must want to kill me.”

“Nah. She likes you better than most people. When I told her about it, she said she’d be shocked if you considered giving it a second go because I’d behaved like an impatient child. I love her, but she can be brutal sometimes. The talk with Harry was much better. Hell, talking to Ron and being beaten up was better than listening to Gram explain things about your situation that I should have known or taken into consideration.”

“Really?” She doesn’t necessarily believe him, and her tone indicates her doubt because he looks at her intently.

“She didn’t want me hiding, not after, well, she knows what that’s like, so she was rather angry with me for getting myself into such a situation. She knows that emotional stuff isn’t something you can control, though, so she stopped ranting finally and really tried to help me.” He frowns. “I knew you worried about Rose and Hugo knowing, but it never honestly occurred to me how things would go if we don’t work out. I never thought about how it would be for you if they don’t approve of me as anything but ‘cousin’ Teddy and don’t want me anywhere near you romantically. I didn’t think that anyone who cares about either of us would possibly care as long as we’re happy, but Gram reminded me that people don’t work that way usually.”

“No, they don’t. Ron and Harry both disapprove, even if they’re willing to accept it, and they’ve been my best friends since I was twelve. I know that they’re logically closer to the situation, which means those who aren’t so close to you might not care that much at all, but their reactions do skew my expectations in that regard right now.”

“Yeah. Well, Gram forced me to see a few things that I’d not paid a lot of attention to or acknowledged, so it was good, even if it was bloody awkward discussing my love life with her. I just knew that she might understand, and I wasn’t sure what to do. Harry asked me to leave you alone unless it was work, cause he said you needed time to figure out your head and heart, but my promise to do so lasted until Monday afternoon, which means I utterly fail as a godson and a mature adult. Gram didn’t make me promise anything, but she did suggest that I spend a few days seriously thinking about everything so I could decide if it was still worth the risk once I had to accept everything beyond the great sex and conversation.”

“I’m rather horrified, beyond belief, at the idea of your grandmother using the word ‘sex’ in relation to me and you. Just wanted that out there, with the honesty and everything.” She takes a drink of her coffee before she sighs. “You were right. I was terribly selfish by thinking only of myself and not considering everything you were jeopardizing, too. I liked controlling everything and trying to keep myself from getting hurt.”

“I know you’re a control freak,” he says. “I mean, that’s sort of obvious to anyone around you for more than a few hours. I don’t even mind that much because I can be stubborn and demanding when it’s something that really matters, but you kept hiding behind your issues without ever talking with me about them and kept saying that you needed more time. I just felt like we were hiding and nothing was actually advancing. I was scared that that you'd, uh, never want to stop keeping the secret, and I just can't live that way.”

She looks at him. “My divorce from Ron was amicable. We realized we weren’t in love anymore and it happened gradually, but we agreed. It did hurt, especially at first when I realized we’d lost something that used to mean the world to me, and I felt like a complete failure. I know he was partially responsible, but it was one of those times when logic doesn’t really matter as much as how you feel about yourself. I promised myself back then to never get into a similar situation because I couldn’t see how any other relationship could possibly work out when Ron and I couldn’t. I’m sorry if you were hurt because of my self-protection. I never intended for things between us to escalate and reach a point where I actually had to make myself vulnerable.”

“I sort of figured that out.” He smiles wryly. “Temporary and casual. You kept saying I was too young and that’s all I wanted, but, really, it’s all you wanted because it meant you wouldn’t become emotionally involved and there wouldn’t be a chance of getting hurt. That’s basically it, right?”

“I’m afraid so. I convinced myself that it was just lust and a crush, and that you’d get tired of me and how complicated, yet boring, my life is, but you didn’t. It scared me, too, because I was starting to feel things I shouldn’t if you might end things at any time. In recent years, I've just developed the habit of avoiding emotional entanglements, especially when things become too serious and complex.”

“But you’re here now, not avoiding it.”

“A dear friend reminded me that life is too short to live in fear. I managed to find my courage after a little manipulation.”

“Ah. George?” He ducks his head and his hair flashes pink. “He’s rather good at that manipulation when he focuses. Did he, uh, tell you---”

“About his advice?” Hermione smiles. “Yes, he did. I think he put two and two together last Friday and decided to meddle. I’m glad he did this time because I needed it or else I’d have continued thinking and letting my worries control me.”

“The worries are still there, Hermione. I mean, on Monday, Entwhistle mentioned a promotion, and I’m not stupid enough to think that our going public wouldn’t stir up gossip that could hurt your chances. I know we wouldn’t be taking out adverts in the newspaper by any means, but if we’re not hiding, people will notice and talk and I don’t want your career hurt because of me. I also wouldn‘t want you to be forced into a situation where you had to choose between your children and me, not that there would ever actually _be_ a choice if it came to that.”

“I know they’re still there, Ted. However, any promotion at work will be based on experience, performance, and merit. And I’m prepared and willing to fight anyone who dares suggest that I’d not be suitable for the position due to my private life. As for the children, you’re right. There isn’t a choice, and they might not accept us being in a relationship, but they might need time before they’re okay with it no matter who I’m dating, so I can’t really not take the chance out of fear of their reactions.”

“What about the gossip? I’ve seen it with Muggles, and it’s so frustrating because it’s none of their business. People who know us should accept anything if we’re happy and not doing illegal things, but will they? I just don’t know anymore.”

“People will talk and there will be nasty gossip, but I’ve been at the center of such ridiculousness several times throughout the years, including a particularly dreadful time when I was sixteen, and I managed to survive. Would you, though? Would you prefer for us to just end this tonight and not be forced to deal with all the issues that might arise? I’d understand if you’ve had a change of heart, and I could accept it.” She pauses. “It isn’t going to be easy. No new relationship is perfect or easy, and, in our case, we have even more issues than a normal couple. It might not last, it might turn into something we wish we’d never tried, but, well, it _might_ last and might turn out to be something we never realized we even needed.”

“The best things in life are rarely simple and easy,” he tells her quietly. “I’ve heard gossip since I was a child. Father was a werewolf, mother was killed by her own auntie, said auntie was an evil Death Eater, member of a family well known for Dark Wizards, Potter’s Godson, and the list goes on and on. I used to let it bother me, but now I just pity those who are so caught up in spreading hurtful rumors and trying to ruin people’s lives because it’s pathetic and only works if you allow their opinions to control you. Regardless of my last name, I’m a Black, and I’m the son of two heroes, one of whom was a werewolf and one of whom was a metamorphmagus, who died fighting to save this world, and my godfather is a nice man who just happens to have a scar on his forehead. I don’t really see why adding ‘the manfriend of a sexy brilliant older woman’ to that list is something that I’d ever be ashamed of.”

“Manfriend?”

“Well, _boy_ friend sort of emphasizes the age difference, yeah?”

“Wait. Boyfriend? What if I'm just after you for your body and youthful stamina?”

“Manfriend. And I don’t mind you being after me for my body, but I’m after you for that and a lot more. So I guess that means it’ll just have to be a compromise.”

“Boyfriend. Fortunately, it's not just your body that interests me, so compromise is good." She pauses. "What exactly is a lot more?”

“Sex slave. If we’re going to shock the socks off people, let’s go all out." He grins as his hair becomes turquoise again. "A lot more is just that. Maybe if you’re really focused, you can seduce it out of me one of these days.”

“Fine. Manfriend. See? I can compromise.“ She snorts. “Oh, yes, because I’m such an expert at seduction.”

“I think you are, so that’s all that matters.” He tugs on her hair and kisses her lightly. When he pulls back, he caresses her cheek. “Are you really sure?”

She brushes her fingers through his hair, which floods with a familiar burnt orange color she’s not seen lately, and considers his question seriously. Finally, she kisses him and whispers against his lips, “I’m sure, Teddy.” She waits for the rush of panic and fear, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she feels happy and determined. She smiles up at him as he takes her cup of coffee and sets it on the table before he kisses her again.


	36. Delectation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up with Teddy might be even better than coffee

Something tickles.

Hermione wrinkles her nose and shifts beneath the covers as she slowly begins to wake up. Her nose itches again, and she idly swats with her hand, because it feels like something is brushing against her nose. When she makes contact with a feather, her eyes open immediately in surprise. She blinks at the quill before she moves her gaze up its length to stare at the large, and very familiar, hand holding it.

“Why are you rubbing a quill against my nose?” she asks in an early morning tone that is possibly sharper due to the annoying way she just woke up. As well as not having had any coffee yet.

“Wasn’t just your nose,” Teddy points out in a very ‘I was awake before you’ tone. “Was also your forehead, your cheeks, your cute little chin, that graceful neck, and, uh, other parts.”

“Other parts?” She rolls her head to the left so she can look at him. His hair is burnt orange this morning, and it’s falling across his eyes, which makes her fingers twitch with the urge to brush it aside. “Why are you brushing a quill against my face and _other parts_ , Lupin?”

He mumbles something as he ducks his head but it’s impossible to hear him.

“What was that?”

“I woke up before you, for once, and was just lying here staring at you, watching you sleep, and then I, uh, got bored.”

“You got bored?” she repeats slowly. “So you decided to play with your quill?”

He snorts and then looks up at her with a sheepish smile. “Um, I guess you might say that.”

She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t mean _that_ , brat. Though, I suppose it is an accurate description of the events that transpired in this bed prior to my waking.”

“If you keep sounding so clever and using all those big words, the quill isn’t all I’ll be playing with.”

It’s tempting to test his comment, but she’s just woken up and is trying to acclimate herself to her current situation. She’s in Teddy’s bed, and she’s rather sore in areas that remind her exactly how they spent most of last night after they resolved to give this relationship thing a chance. He seemed determined to make up for the last week, and she certainly wasn’t inclined to protest. This morning, however, her body is reminding her that she’s nearly forty and just not cut out for shagging several times during the span of a few hours.

“You know, when a bloke makes such a statement, he sort of expects his woman to either give encouragement or make it clear that he’s fending for himself when he showers.”

“His woman?” She narrows her eyes and looks at him. “You do realize that such a statement is possessive and archaic. It also harkens back to a day when women were considered second-class citizens and nothing more than property, don’t you? Do you consider me property, Ted?”

“God, you’re cranky in the mornings,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair before he smiles. “It’s actually pretty adorable, at least, it would be if you weren’t looking at me like you’re considering whether I deserve to keep my bollocks or not.”

“You’re avoiding the question. And, yes, I am, especially without coffee or after being woken up by having my nose tickled.”

“I don’t consider you property, Hermione. Nor do I believe in any of that second-class nonsense. I love women, as you fully know, and I’ve always been around such strong, amazing, clever ones that I can’t imagine anyone ever dismissing them in such a manner. Gram would kick anyone’s arse who tried such a thing, and I think all of us blokes know your fondness for aiming where it really hurts with hexes.”

“Three incidents involving hexes at bollocks, and I’m somehow known for having an obsession,” she mutters crossly.

“And the threats. Anything involving sensitive bits of our anatomy and a jar? Isn’t something we’re likely to forget.”

“Hmph.” She stares at him and reaches up to brush his hair back from his eyes. “And how would you feel if I walked around calling you ‘my man’ in such a controlling way?”

“Well, I’d be thrilled that it wasn’t ‘my boy’,” he says thoughtfully as he reaches up to capture her hand. He kisses her palm and smiles against it before he slowly licks her fingers one by one. “And, I don’t know. Not really a fair comparison considering all that second-class stuff. True, my father’s condition makes me somewhat lower socially than other blokes, but you’d never mean it in such a way.” He sucks her pointer finger into his mouth while he looks at her, curling his tongue around it as he licks in a way that is most distracting.

“I wouldn’t,” she agrees, trying for a tone that suggests she’s still cranky but only managing husky and aroused.

He lets her finger slide out of his mouth and smiles. “So, I’d actually preen a little, because you chose me for such a distinction and I could brag to anyone who ever wondered what you were like in bed, and possibly mention a fantasy involving you telling me what to do to please you while calling me, uh, well, nevermind. No fantasy talk this early in the morning.”

The tips of his ears are pink again as is his hair, which intrigues her. “Calling you what, Teddy?”

“Boy,” he mumbles. “You call me Boy and make me please you and earn an orgasm. It, uh, isn’t anything I’d ever want to do routinely, but, yeah. What can I say? I obviously read too much.”

She feels warmth spread over her at the very idea of playing such a game, which is something she’s fantasized about once or twice when she’s been in a particular mood. Not that she’ll admit that, of course. “You have quite a few fantasies. I wonder if that’s to be attributed to your vast reading experience or your age or a combination of both.”

“You know, I think I realized that I was a goner when I had to accept that your being all clever and talky in bed actually arouses me instead of turning me off,” he muses. “As does the fact that you just blushed when hearing about my little fantasy and had no comment as to the actual details, which makes me wonder if that means it’s one you’ve had, too.” He grins. “And, for the record, I think it can be attributed to a combination as well as your influence, because the largest portion of said fantasies since I was maybe fourteen have involved you.”

“Unlike you, I don’t find discussing my private fantasies to be suitable morning conversation, so you’ll have to keep wondering.” She pauses. “And I’m not really sure if I should be flattered or disturbed about you having such thoughts about me when you were fourteen.”

“Flattered.” He kisses her palm. “I don’t want you to ever be disturbed about anything involving us, and especially not sex.”

She moves her fingers over his lips and smiles. “I’m not disturbed about us, Teddy. If I were, I wouldn’t be here with you now.”

“I just---okay, we said we’d be honest and communicate so this will work out between us, yeah?” He ducks his head and his hair changes from orange to dark purple. “I just don’t want you suddenly feeling bothered like that and deciding we’re not worth it or, uh, something. I’ve been lying here this morning watching you sleep, and I’m sort of amazed that you’re really here, that we’re really going to give it a chance, and I’m scared that you’ll change your mind.”

“Yes, we did say that,” she agrees. “And I’m glad you told me about this instead of keeping it inside and letting it gnaw on your subconscious until you wanted to scream.” She considers what he said before she speaks. “There are no definite guarantees in life. Any relationship, I think, has that sort of fear. I know from experience that the dizzying emotions can fade in time and become something else, so what makes sense now might not in a month, six months, a year, six years, or even fifteen years. That’s just reality, though, and it’s a price that _all_ of us pay in exchange for having what we can now.”

He listens carefully and nods. “Right. I mean, I understand that on a lot of levels based on what Gram and Harry have told me about my parents. My father resisted the happiness that he could have had with my mum for ages because of fear, and I can’t help thinking that he realized that what he did have with her, however fleeting, was worth it in the end. And you---you wouldn’t change you and Ron, would you? If you knew then how it would go?”

“Not at all,” she says honestly. “Oh, there was a time when we were drifting and knew it was over but were just too, well, scared to admit it out loud, I guess, when I was hurting and upset and I considered the idea of wishing I could go back and change things. Go back and not fall for him and not spend so many happy years only to fail in the end. But, you know, I realized almost immediately that I could never do such a thing. We didn’t work out, but, when we were good, it was great, and we have two amazing children, so it was worth it, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, even knowing that it wouldn’t last in that ‘happily ever after’ way they love to write about in books.”

“Why do you think we’re worth the risk?” he asks. His voice is so soft that she’s not entirely sure she heard him correctly, but he’s looking at her intently.

“Because I care about you and you make me happy in a way that I haven’t been in awhile. I also don’t want regrets, to look back in another fifty years and wish I’d been brave enough to try or wonder what might have been. Life’s just too short, even with our longer life expectancy, to not actually _live_.”

He seems to relax and nods. “I, uh, care about you, too. And, God, you make me so happy. Even with the worries and thinking too much, I just enjoy being with you.” He grins. “It’s not just the mind-blowing sex, either. Though that is definitely enjoyable. Speaking of, uh, you any less cranky now?”

When he asks his question, he presses closer, and she can feel his erection against her hip. “Bloody hell, Lupin. Don’t you ever get tired?” she asks, debating whether she needs to use the loo first or not.

“I’m just making up for lost time and preparing for the upcoming week when Hugo will be home and we’ll be limited on time. Besides, I seem to remember a certain beautiful brunette being the one to instigate wickedness earlier this morning, so maybe I’m not the only one who doesn’t get tired.”

“Oh, yes, that was all my fault,” she says dryly. “I woke up with your erection rubbing against me while you slept, so it was only practical to get a little something out of whatever dream you were having.”

“Practical includes straddling me and waking me up as you slide down onto me?” He smiles widely and winks. “I like your definition of practical.”

“You would.” Since she doesn’t really feel the need to rush off to the toilet yet, she decides that morning sex is a suitable alternative to coffee. She reaches for the quill that Teddy dropped and rolls over onto her side. After a moment of deliberation, she decides to be daring and do something a little different. It isn’t extremely outrageous, not like some of those fantasies Teddy loves to tease her with, but she thinks he’ll enjoy it, nonetheless.

“What’cha doing with that?”

“An experiment.”

“I’m not entirely sure I like the sound of that coupled with the look in your eyes, Hermione.”

“You seemed to enjoy using this quill earlier to wake me up, Lupin, so it’s only fair that I have a chance to use it, too.”

Before he can say anything, she moves the feather along his jaw, tracing the curves and angles of his face as he rolls over onto his back and inhales sharply. “Um, okay. Feels nice,” he murmurs while continuing to look at her suspiciously.

“You said you touched my face and neck, right?” she asks innocently, leaning over him as she touches his face with the feather. Her hair falls down around them, brushing against his chest as she focuses on her task.

“Right. But it wasn’t like this.”

“It wasn’t?” She smiles mischievously as she lightly drags the feather over his lips, teasing him with the soft barely-there touch. Her nipples are hard and rubbing against the cotton of the T-shirt she’s wearing, and she feels arousal coiling in her belly as she torments him for a change.

“I was bored and trying to wake you up. Not turn you into a pile of quivering flesh.”

“Oh, I like quivering. Shall we see what it takes to make you quiver, Teddy?”

He curses under his breath and his hair flashes through several colors before it settles on green. “Won’t take a lot when you’re pressed against me like that and I’m already so fucking hard. Can smell you, Hermione. Bet you’re so bloody wet.”

His words excite her even as she tries to deny finding such common vulgarity arousing. It took Ron months to figure out that she disliked the use of foul language unless it was the bedroom, but Teddy has already seemed to figured that out. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to go beyond what she feels comfortable hearing because there are limits. She moves the quill down his throat and brushes it over one hard nipple and then the other. Looking up at him, she tries for sultry but mostly sounds hoarse as she says, “Why don’t you find out?”

“Evil,” he accuses in a low voice that’s almost a growl. He moves his hand to her leg, stroking her thigh as he eases his hand higher. When he reaches the hem of the T-shirt, he raises her leg and moves it over his before he brushes his hand against her damp curls. He tries to tease her, but only manages a few light touches before he slides two fingers into her. “So wet.”

She moans and tries to stay focused. The quill shakes slightly as she moves it down his chest and traces it along the path of hair on his lower abdomen. He tenses when she reaches his cock, and she smiles as she lightly drags the quill over it. “So very hard.”

“I’m never going to be able to write again without getting hard,” he groans, hips rolling up to meet her hand and the quill. At the sound of her laugh, he tries to glare at her. “Just remember that turnabout is also fair, Granger-Weasley.”

“I look forward to it,” she says boldly. She leans down and licks his nipple while she shifts and rocks against his hand. She tries to keep her licks in time with the brushes from the feather, but she’s just not that coordinated. Instead, she nips at the hardened bud in her mouth and traces the feather over the head of his cock until his breathing is more ragged.

“Enough,” he finally growls, removing his wet fingers from her and reaching for her wrist. She finds herself pinned against the bed with him over her, his eyes even darker than usual and his face flushed and sweaty. He kisses her hard while he pushes her legs up and moves between them.

She drops the quill and tangles her fingers in his hair as she drapes her legs over his shoulders. When he enters her, she’s ready for it to not be gentle and careful like usual. It’s not. It’s rough and deep and exactly what they both need right now. He bites her lip as he shoves the T-shirt up so he can reach her breast. “Yes,” she hisses when he squeezes her breast, just hard enough to get her attention without actually being painful.

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He punctuates his words with a deep thrust inside her, breath warm against her cheek as he keeps moving. “Such. A. Bloody. Tease.”

It doesn’t take long for either of them. She isn’t even sure who comes first because she’s so caught up in the sensations that it’s difficult to pay attention to anything except the feel of him inside her. Her orgasm spreads over her, making her whimper and shudder, and he starts to tremble as he spills inside her and keeps moving until he’s spent. When it’s over, he eases out of her, and she moves her legs from his shoulders, lying straight as she stares at the peeling white paint on his ceiling. They’re both panting, and he nuzzles her neck as he moves his arm around her waist.

“You okay?”

“I think that should be my question. After all, I’m the one who pounced on you and got a little rough. Didn’t mean to bite your lip.”

“It’s fine.” She looks at him and smiles. “Besides, I pulled your hair.”

“Yeah, you did.” He grins and kisses her lightly. “I think you’ve worn me out now, though. Twenty years old or not, I think I need time to recover from the last twelve hours.”

“I warned you that I might,” she reminds him, thinking about that first night and her taunt. “You should have listened.”

“You were just flirting, or so I thought. Never had any idea you’d shag me into exhaustion.” He sighs dramatically. “I suppose it’s the price I pay for dating an older woman. Really good price, that.”

“And my current state of soreness in personal areas is obviously the price I pay for dating a younger man with a lot of stamina.” She kisses the tip of his nose. “I need to use the toilet and then take a shower. I’m all sticky and wet.”

“If you’re sore, make it a warm bath,” he tells her seriously. “I know we sort of, uh, went overboard since last night, and I don’t want you hurting over something so bloody enjoyable.”

“That’s very sweet.” She smiles and caresses his cheek. “Okay. I’ll take a bath, but I won’t be very long.”

“Let me use the toilet and take a quick shower, then I’ll make something for breakfast while you soak and ease that soreness.” He kisses her again before he rolls out of bed. She watches his arse as he leaves the room to cross the hall to his small bathroom and then lies back. He really needs to paint his ceiling, she thinks idly as she listens to the toilet flush before the shower starts. 

It’s nice hearing these noises again, the morning and night noises that so many people seem to take for granted when they’re involved. After Ron left, she missed the sound of him brushing his teeth before bed and the sound of the shower in the morning while she got dressed. Those sounds become so routine over time, though, that it’s easy to start taking them for granted. It's like a lot of other things that are gradually ignored or grow to be annoying over time. 

She doesn’t know Teddy’s routines anymore than he really knows hers, but she wants him to learn that she generally prefers coffee before conversation in the morning and that sex upon waking up is occasional and not habitual, and that she won‘t want anything except chocolate and possibly a back rub for a few days every month, though he might have started to learn the latter last month when he tried touching and she just practically growled at him. And she wants to learn his routines, both good and bad, because she was too scared before to pay too much attention.

The fact that she can actually admit that to herself is a rather big step, as is him actually understanding many of her concerns that he didn’t really seem to hear before. It would have been much simpler if they’d been this way from the start, but she doesn’t think either of them was ready to deal with it back then. They needed time and to see how things went between them before they could figure out what they wanted. It makes it easier because they’re actually talking now, even when it’s about something uncomfortable or scary, and that gives her hope that they’ll be stronger together.

“Shower’s yours,” Teddy says as he enters the room. His hair is turquoise now, darker than usual since it’s wet, and it’s dripping water down his chest as he walks. He’s naked save for a towel wrapped around his waist, and she takes a moment to ogle and wish she had a camera because, God, he’s lovely. He grins. “I can turn around and wiggle my bum a little if you want. Strike a pose?” He tosses his wet hair and raises his arm as if he’s going to flex.

“Incorrigible,” she mutters as she gets out of bed. She pulls his T-shirt off and smirks when he stares. “I can bounce a little if you want to see them move.”

“I’d say yes, but then you’d probably go into some sexist rant and accuse me of being possessive of your jiggling bits, so I‘ll clean up in here and make coffee so you can avoid any morning post-shower crankiness while we discuss our day.”

“Our day?” She arches a brow. “I don’t recall you asking if I’d spend the day with you, Lupin. Rather presumptuous of you.”

“What can I say? I’m confident,” he says, shrugging a shoulder in a way that causes his towel to slide down just a little. Damn him for having such distracting hipbones. “I also thought that approaching it as if you had already agreed might confuse you into thinking maybe you had at some point.”

“Oh, so it was one of your sneaky plans. I see now. Fortunately for you, Hugo’s visiting Ron this weekend, so I do happen to have a free day. Though I should make you wait for an answer just because you actually called my breasts ‘jiggling bits’.”

“Ah, but making me wait would just be cruel. You might be evil, but you’re not cruel.” He grins and leers at her chest. “Besides, your tits are bits that jiggle, so it’s a perfectly suitable description.”

“It better be bloody excellent coffee,“ she warns as she rolls her eyes. She leaves the room and stops at the door to the bathroom. “And, yes, I’ll spend the day with you, but I do have a few errands I need to run and grocery shopping to get done, just as a warning.”

“Consider me warned and willing to carry whatever bags you need carried,” he calls after her.

“I’ll hold you to that, Ted.“ She shakes her head and smiles as she enters the bathroom. As she shuts the door, she has to acknowledge that she‘s in a good mood and hasn‘t even had caffeine. Maybe, just maybe since she‘d need to analyze it further, waking up with Teddy is better than a strong cup of coffee.


	37. Impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy run errands

The smell of coffee fills the flat. Hermione leaves the bathroom and sniffs the air appreciatively before she starts looking for her clothes. Her skirt is in the bedroom, her shirt is in the hallway, her knickers are by the front door, and she can’t find her bra anywhere. There’s something almost seedy about putting on clothes from the previous day, and she cringes at her dirty knickers before deciding to just forgo them until she can go home and change.

“Have you seen my bra, Ted---” Her words fade as she looks up from fastening her shirt and sees Andromeda Tonks sitting at the table.

“Good morning, Hermione,” Andromeda drawls coolly, her pale eyes sweeping over Hermione as if she can somehow see that she’s knicker-less. It’s obvious she’s not wearing a bra, since she just asked about it, but she’s relieved she at least buttoned her shirt part way. Andromeda arches a brow and nods towards the sitting room. “I believe that I saw your brassiere beside the fireplace when I stepped out of the floo. At least, I do hope that my grandson hasn’t taken to wearing frilly purple undergarments.”

“Nah. I look awful in purple,” Teddy quips as he walks out of the kitchen. He sets a cup of coffee on the table in front of his grandmother and looks at Hermione above her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mouths before he smiles wryly and shrugs. "Gram apparently decided to just drop by to check on me this morning."

“Good morning, Andromeda.“ She pauses and shifts uncomfortably. “Um, right. I’ll go get it and then I’ll just, uh, head back home,” she says, hating that she’s stammering like a teenager caught doing something naughty by her parents.

“Don’t rush off on my account, dear. I just stopped by to check on my grandson before I rushed off to go shopping and meet a friend for lunch,” Andromeda says. “Sit and stop your fidgeting. You’ll have me wondering if you’re guilty of something besides untidiness when it comes to where you leave your clothing.”

The slight condescension in Andromeda’s tone is impossible to miss, and Hermione tenses unconsciously as she straightens her shoulders. “I think I’ll stay for a cup of coffee, then,” she says, walking to the table. 

Teddy pulls out a chair for her and brushes his hand along her arm as she sits. “I’ll get you a cup,” he murmurs, squeezing her shoulder before he goes back into the kitchen.

She blushes faintly when she notices Andromeda staring at her. The woman is shrewd and frightening in a way that Hermione can’t really describe. She’s just blunt and intelligent, and she manages to project an aura of superiority that screams old wealthy Pureblood despite her open views of such things. “I’m sure you’re wondering---”

“Don’t presume to know what I am and am not thinking, dear,” Andromeda says crisply. “I have been concerned about my grandson, hence my surprise visit to ensure that he’d not done anything foolish as would suit someone of his age. I expected him to find him moping or suffering from the aftereffects of too much alcohol, as I know he’s not likely to choose a random female to occupy his bed. Therefore, I am extremely pleased to see him relaxed and happy.”

“So am I,” Hermione says firmly.

“Yes, I am sure you are.” Andromeda’s tone is dry but her lips twitch slightly as if she might smile. She doesn’t, however. Instead, she takes a sip of her coffee and glances towards the kitchen. “Teddy, you and Hermione shall come over for tea tomorrow. I expect you at four.” She focuses on Hermione. “If you have your son at that time, do please bring him along. I’ve not seen Hugo since the holidays.”

“Gram, you need to remember to _ask_ and not command,” Teddy reminds her as he leaves the kitchen. “Regardless of your high opinion of yourself, you’re not wizarding royalty.”

“Hmph. I did not command,” Andromeda denies smoothly, so convincing that it takes Hermione a second to remember that she did, indeed, demand their presence. “I daresay that any opinion I might have of myself will never become too high when I’m forced to contend with a cheeky grandson who forgets to respect his elders.”

“I don’t forget. I just choose not to be polite when you’re being authoritative,” Teddy tells her with a smirk. He puts a cup of coffee on the table in front of Hermione before he sits next to her. She feels his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently, and she realizes that she’s been behaving like a tongue-tied teenager.

“Tea tomorrow afternoon would be lovely, Andromeda,” she tells her composedly. “I’m afraid that Hugo is visiting his father this weekend, however, so he’ll not be home in time to attend. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Are you sure?” Teddy whispers against her ear. “We don’t have to, if she’s making you uncomfortable. It’s just her way.”

“Teddy, it’s rude to whisper when one has guests. One might assume they’re being talked about.” Andromeda does sound amused this time. 

“Perhaps if the guests weren’t being bothersome, they wouldn’t be so paranoid about whispers.”

“Ted, be respectful,” Hermione scolds softly. “We’ll be at tea tomorrow, Andromeda.”

“Good. I look forward to it.” She puts down her cup and stands. “Actually, I do need to be on my way. I have a full day planned, as I’m sure is the case for the two of you as well. Hermione, as always, lovely to see you. We shall talk more over tea tomorrow. Teddy, come see your grandmother to the Floo.”

“Yes, Gram.” He stands and waits until she turns and walks into the sitting room before he kisses Hermione swiftly. “I’ll be right back.”

She watches him walk away and leans forward, cradling her head in her hands. Oh God, this is mortifying. Being caught half-naked by Andromeda bloody Tonks is a nightmare. Even worse, now they’re going to ‘have a talk’ during tea. She groans and tugs on her damp hair, wondering if she can feign illness tomorrow. There _is_ a bug going around the office, after all.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly how I imagined breakfast.” Teddy enters the small dining area and sits across from her. He reaches across the table and takes her hands, squeezing tightly. “You were brilliant.”

“I was an utter flake,” she says, looking up at him and glaring. “Don’t lie to me, Ted. I stammered and sat here feeling like I was fifteen and caught taking advantage of you. Oh God. I’m not even wearing my knickers!”

“You aren’t?” He grins and nudges her leg with his foot. “Very naughty girl, aren’t you?”

“Stop that.” She scowls at him. “This is serious. Your grandmother just walked in on me wet from a shower with my clothes strewn all over your flat. This? Might very well top my list of most embarrassing moments in my entire life and that includes Harry walking in on me after a shower, which would have been embarrassing enough without it happening while my leg was raised and I was applying lotion. He saw enough to avoid looking at me for several days, and yet this experience is nearly equal to that one.”

“It’s not that serious, Hermione. She already knew about us, remember?” He frowns and shifts. “Harry’s seen you naked?”

“I remember but knowing about it and walking in on it are two entirely different things.” She snorts. “And, yes, Harry’s seen me naked. Recently, in fact. And it wasn’t in _that_ way, so stop frowning.”

“I’m not frowning.” He runs his hand through his hair and snorts. “Okay, maybe I’m frowning a little. It’s just weird knowing that my godfather has seen my girlfriend naked. Wait, recently?”

“He came over while I was sleeping nude." She arches a brow. "Just remember that a majority of _my_ friends have changed my boyfriend’s nappies, and I think you’ll put things into perspective.”

“Okay, yeah, that does it.” He smiles and shakes his head, hair turning turquoise as he drags his fingers over her palm. “So, what are we going to do today?”

“After I get past the mortification of the visit with your grandmother, I’ll probably start worrying about what exactly she wants to talk about tomorrow.”

“There’s no need to worry about that. She just likes to sound imposing and scary, but you usually stand up to her, which she admires. Just be yourself and tell her to mind her own bloody business if she gets nosy.” He laughs. “Besides, it’ll be nothing compared to my ‘talk’ with Ron, as I can’t see Gram busting your lip open.”

Hermione bites her lip then laughs. “Fine. No physical violence does make it better than what you’ve had to endure so far.” She picks up her cup and takes a drink of the coffee. “As for our plans today, I mentioned having to run errands. First, I need to go home and change then run to the supermarket. After that, it’s a trip to the butcher, the vegetable stand, and the shoe store. Hugo’s feet are growing at a ridiculous rate, and he needs new trainers for the summer.”

“I need to buy a few things from the supermarket, too,” he says. “Buying Hugo shoes sounds fun. Doesn’t he want to be there to choose?”

“He isn’t that picky about shoes. We looked a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t have any extra money on me, so I know what he wants,” she tells him. “I’m not sure how fun it is, but it’s necessary. I think that’s everything that had to get done today. Do you need to do anything?”

“Well, I need to get a few groceries but, otherwise, I can’t think of anything.” He grins. “You know, you don’t have to change on my account. I rather like the no undergarments thing.”

“You wouldn’t if you had to feel the scratch of fabric against your bare bum.” She kicks his leg lightly. “It might sound sexy to not wear pants, but the reality is abrasive material rubbing against sensitive bits, which is a far cry from arousing.”

Teddy considers her comment before he nods. “Point. Fine, we’ll go by your house so you can get changed then we’ll start the shopping.”

After she finishes her coffee and eats a slice of burned toast, they take the Floo to her house. Teddy offers to feed Cliodna for her while she goes upstairs to get dressed. She puts on a pair of linen trousers and a T-shirt before she heads back downstairs. Teddy’s still outside, so she glances through her mail and sorts it. She has to write to Rose later because exams are now over so there is worrying about marks and plans for the trip home. It’s nice to think that she’ll be home in a little over a week.

“Your owl is evil.”

“No, she’s not. She’s just fussy.” Hermione looks up from the mail and sees Teddy holding his finger. “Ah. You tried feeding her directly? She likes to bite when you do that.”

“I found that out,” Teddy mutters. “You look nice.”

She laughs. “Oh, yes. Ravishing, I’m sure. I just need to pull my hair back and then we can go.”

“You should leave it down,” Teddy tells her. “It looks good when it’s down.”

“It’s also heavy, thick and hot,” she points out. “It’s going to be a warm day, so having it off my neck will be nice.” She picks up an elastic band from the desk and pulls her hair into a high ponytail. “Much better. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” He stops and runs his hand over his hair. “Let me fix this, though, if we’re going into Muggle areas.” The turquoise gives way to the familiar brown and his hair shortens just a little. “Now I’m ready.”

She walks over to him and brushes a kiss against his lips. “I’ll Apparate us near Sainsbury’s,” she says, moving her arms around him. She focuses and they arrive in a private area just down from the supermarket. The store is crowded since it’s Saturday, but they get everything they need easily enough. By the time they leave, she’s tired of crowds and being bumped by trolleys.

“That was a bloody nightmare,” Teddy declares as he pushes the trolley outside the store. There isn't enough privacy to shrink the bags, so they gather them up and walk back towards the spot where they arrived.

“Supermarkets on Saturday and before holidays are up there with going to Harrods or any toy store before Christmas on the list of things to avoid,” she agrees. “I usually go on Saturday or Sunday, though the latter is a pain in the arse because they’re not open as many hours.”

“I usually stop by a little corner market near my flat and pick up a few things whenever I need them.” He grins. “Not very logical, since I have to stop several times a week, but it means I don’t have a lot of stuff just sitting around not being used.”

“When I lived alone and even when Ron and I first married, I’d shop that way. After the children, though, it’s just easier to go once a week and buy a little more. Besides, living out where I do, it’s just simpler that way because the local supermarket is rather small and the prices are ridiculous compared to the ones here.”

They reach the area where they arrived, and Disapparate back to her house. He helps her get the bags into the kitchen before he Floos home with his own purchases. She’s still putting away groceries when he gets back. “Nearly done,” she says with a smile. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’ll get some juice,” he decides. After he pours himself a glass, he starts to help her sort the rest of the groceries. “This is a lot of stuff.”

“I know.” She smiles wryly. “I’m still used to buying for four, so I tend to slip into that habit. Rose will be home next Wednesday, though, which means a lot of this will be used eventually.”

“It is almost time for Hogwarts to be out, isn’t it? Has she had exams yet?”

“Last week. She thinks she did well, even if she’s nervous about receiving her marks.”

“She’ll do amazing. After all, she’s brilliant, just like her mum.” He reaches out and tugs on her hair.

“I’m sure she’ll do great, but I wouldn’t compare her to myself. I’d hate that if I were her. She’s her own person, just like all the children,” she says. She puts away a tin of corn and shuts the pantry door. “And that’s the last one. Now we can walk into town and finish the rest.”

He nods. “Yeah, we can. Finished with your juice?” He picks up her glass and rinses it along with his. “I’ve never been shopping in the local village before. Is it stupid of me to be excited about something so ordinary?”

“It’s not stupid. I’m afraid that you’ll be rather disappointed, though, because it’s just shopping,” she tells him. They leave the house and walk down the drive towards the road that leads to town. “It’s a larger village than quite a few, even if it is small in comparison to others.”

“I like it, from what I saw a couple of weeks ago,” he says. “It’s quaint and charming without being unreal.”

She laughs. “An unreal town? Not sure I know any of those.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. One of those fake feeling tourist havens,” he mutters, making a face. “Anyway, enough about that. It’s a pretty day, isn’t it?”

“Very nice. Warm and dry is a good combination, even if I do enjoy the rain.” She bumps his hip with hers as they walk towards town.

They talk or just enjoy the silence during their walk. Near town, she bites her lip and reaches for his hand, squeezing it gently as she glances at him. He smiles and entwines his fingers through hers, not having to say anything for her to know he realizes that it took a lot of courage for her to make that simple gesture.

She lets go when they reach town. “The butcher first, I think,” she decides. They make their stop, and she buys a few things to make for dinner during the upcoming week. A stop at the market follows so she can get fresh vegetables and some fruit for Hugo to snack on when he’s hungry. She prefers fruit over crisps or sweets, and, fortunately, the children have acquired a similar fondness. 

“Do you want to stop for a late lunch?” Teddy asks after they finish at the market. “I know breakfast was dismal, at best, since I burned the bloody toast.”

“Lunch would be good. We can stop at the pub, if you’d like.” She smiles. “And breakfast wasn’t that bad. The coffee made up for the toast.”

“And here I thought you’d say the company did.” He holds his heart, nearly dropping the bags he’s carrying. “That wounds me. Deeply. You’ll have to make it up to me later.”

“Keep dreaming, Lupin.” She laughs as they enter the pub. After finding a table, they leave their bags and go to the bar to order. Teddy gets fish and chips with a pint, which sounds quite good, so she orders the same, only juice instead of a pint.

“Copycat,” he accuses with a grin as they sit back down. “God, I never realized that errands were so bloody tiring.”

“Try doing them with two children under ten. It was horrendous, especially with Hugo’s grabby hands and Rose’s habit of taking forever to make a choice. I’m so glad they’re older now, if only to make shopping easier. Of course, they still have those habits. It takes Rose hours at the bookstore just to make a selection.”

“I expect you were the same at her age, weren’t you?”

“At her age?” She smiles sheepishly. “I’m still that way over books, though I don't have that problem with other things. I’m not fond of shopping, so I tend to just make my choices and move along quickly.”

“Oh, it’s so lovely to see you two again!”

Hermione glances up to find one of the older women from their trivia team by their table. “Good afternoon,” she says, hoping she doesn’t need a name because she can’t for the life of her remember. Edna? Esther?

“Hello, Ethel. You look smashing this afternoon,” Teddy says with a charming grin.

“You charmer, you. So sweet,” the woman whose name is obviously Ethel practically simpers at Teddy. “We had hoped to see you both during trivia the last couple of weeks. I hope nothing bad kept you from attending.”

“My son has been home, which makes it difficult to go to the pub,” Hermione explains.

“You can bring him along. I’ve seen him with you in town. Adorable boy, and so polite! Not like most of these children nowadays. Rude, the lot of them. My Becky, she’s my granddaughter, she keeps an eye on the children during trivia nights. Hosts their own for the young ‘uns,” Ethel says. She lowers her voice. “I had hoped it wasn’t any of the whispering that kept you away. They’ve no business sticking their noses in your affairs.”

“No, they don’t,” Teddy agrees firmly. “They can whisper all they want, though, because it doesn’t change anything.”

“That’s the spirit,” Ethel says. “My Nathaniel was three years younger than I, and the scandal that created! He was friends with my little brother, and it was the fifties, so people talked and had opinions, but we didn’t listen. Were happy for fifty-four years before he passed on, so I say don’t you listen to any of them.”

The idea of receiving dating advice from a very elderly neighbor is somewhat surreal. Hermione shifts and takes a moment before she says, “If people weren’t talking about us, then they’d just be talking about something else. Besides, I’m sure there are far more interesting things in town to discuss than my personal life.”

“Not at the moment, but I expect those who whispered the most will turn their attention elsewhere soon enough.” She looks around before she whispers, “Word has it that Beatrice Kobler, the chemist’s daughter, is with child and she certainly has a list of possible fathers, if you get my meaning. Far more scandalous than you two.”

“That’s good to hear.” Teddy winks at her before grinning up at Ethel. “We’re actually quite boring and not at all outrageous, so they’d get tired of us soon anyway. And our food’s ready, so I’ll be right back, ladies.”

Hermione watches him walk to the bar before offering Ethel a smile. “While I could do without being the subject of gossip, I’m prepared to face whatever anyone says. However, if they say anything to my children, they’ll regret it.”

“You tend to keep to yourself, love, but we all know you and your children. Have since you and your husband moved into town, though we were sad to realize you two split up. Always seemed quite happy when we saw you two. But we’ve always been right respectable to you because you’re polite and friendly whenever you come here. I’ve lived here for sixty years, and I doubt many people will care a whit who’s warming your sheets at night, so long as there’s no trouble and he’s courteous. Your Ted is certainly a charmer, so what little gossip there is will mostly die down when there’s something else worth talking about that comes along. And don‘t you worry about those children of yours.”

“Okay,” she says, not really sure what else she can say to hearing that people in town are so aware of her life. They knew about the divorce and are obviously talking about her relationship with Teddy, despite it not even being a definite relationship until Friday night. Ah, small towns. There are certainly drawbacks to them. Though Ethel’s blunt honesty is refreshing, as is her blatant concern for Hermione being uncomfortable. She smiles when Teddy arrives back at the table with their food. “We’ll try to attend another trivia night soon.”

“Good. We look forward to it. You and your young man helped us reach the finals, which never happens. Poor Agnes is so determined to win that we’ve had to keep her from dropping by with fresh biscuits as a bribe to get you two back.”

“Biscuits are always a good bribe,” Teddy confides with a wink. “You tell Agnes that we’ll be there next time we can, maybe even tomorrow?” He glances at Hermione and arches a brow.

“Maybe,” she agrees, knowing that it will depend on how tea goes and when Hugo gets home. “We’ll see.”

“Alas, with Hermione, that could mean yes or no,” Teddy says. “She’s entirely unpredictable about that, or so I’ve been told by a good source.”

“Whenever you can, loves. I should toddle on to the florist before they close. That wretched new wife of Clarence’s seems to think the work day ends at two, and it’s a miracle for them to remain open until closing time. She’s not from around here, obviously, and still needs to learn our ways.” Ethel smiles. “You two enjoy your lunch.”

After she leaves, Teddy laughs softly. “Well, that was certainly interesting. It seems we‘re famous.”

“Infamous is probably more apt,” she says dryly.

“She was sweet and harmless.”

“Harmless my arse.” Hermione shakes her head. “That woman is a gossip and probably knows more secrets on the people in this town than they even realize. Shrewdness hiding behind affable scatterbrain is what she is. Fortunately, she seems taken with you and approves of me, so I don't think we've anything to worry about."

“Of course she’s taken with me. I’m charming, didn’t you hear?” He nudges her leg before he starts to eat his fish.

“I suppose you can be sometimes,” she decides, smiling slightly as she picks up a chip and focuses on lunch. Between tea with Andromeda, Hugo coming home from Ron’s, and possibly attending trivia night at the pub, it sounds like Sunday is going to be relatively busy.


	38. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s tea time

Hermione spends Sunday morning taking advantage of an empty house in order to stay in bed a little late so she can enjoy the fun of waking up with Teddy. Once they finally roll out of bed and shower, he goes home to get a few things done while she catches up on her correspondence and does chores. Since they’re having tea with Andromeda in the afternoon, Hermione makes herself a sandwich for an early lunch and eats while she writes letters.

When Teddy returns, it’s early afternoon, and she’s still trying to finish answering her mail. She tries to keep up with it weekly, but as the number of nieces and nephews who write grows and adds to the usual friends-on-holiday mail, that's getting harder. Besides that, she has her routine mail. There are letters from Neville every week, one from Luna every two weeks, and Rose writes twice a week. Albus generally writes to her once a week, which is far more regular than the other children, and Charlie usually writes to her once a month to keep in touch and ask about Hugo and Rose.

Teddy gives her a kiss but doesn't hamper her progress, picking up a book and lying on the sofa to read while she finishes her tasks. Once she’s written the last letter, she arranges everything in regard to distance and location. It’ll take a while for everything to get delivered, of course, but she likes to send out the closest letters and then the ones that will require a longer flight. She picks up the letters to Hogwarts, because those rate above anyone else regardless of distance, and goes outside to Cliodna’s cage.

After her owl is flying away, she goes back inside. “I'm glad that's finished. My hand is cramping,” she tells Teddy as she rubs her wrist.

“That’s a lot of mail.” He lowers the book and glances at her writing desk. “No wonder your hand hurts.”

“You’re supposed to offer to massage my wrist or at least kiss it better.” She smiles as she walks to the sofa and sits beside him.

“Am I?” He grins and pushes his reading spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I had no idea there was expected behavior for such a comment. Perhaps you can make a list, just so I don’t miss any future opportunities to kiss your body parts.”

“I do like lists,” she murmurs, watching his hair flash green as he sets his book down and reaches for her. She smiles. “Anytime you finish reading, you’re supposed to kiss my neck. Right here.”

He arches a brow and looks at where she’s pointed. “Something else I didn’t know. Since I do enjoy reading quite a lot, I’m glad you told me this one.” He leans forward and licks her neck slowly before he presses his lips against the spot that makes her tummy clench. Another kiss follows, then another as he makes his way along her jaw.

“Oh!” She’s so focused on his lips that she’s surprised when he slides his hand beneath her shirt. He traces her ribs with light caresses before he reaches her breast.

“I think you missed part of that rule,” he tells her. “The part where I’m also supposed to do this,” he squeezes her breast and rubs her bra over her nipple, “whenever the book I’ve finished reading is a romance.”

“I guess I did.” She reaches up and grips his hair as she kisses him. He groans and pulls her onto his lap, deepening the kiss while she straddles him. When she pulls back from the kiss, she arches towards him and lets her head fall back so he can kiss her neck. She feels him push her shirt up before he licks her nipple through the cotton of her bra.

“Moving ahead a few rules. I’m sure there’s one that says this.” He nips at her breast and grips her bum as he rocks up against her. “God, you make me so bloody crazy.”

“You too,” she admits, looking down at him and caressing his cheek. “I don’t even know why, much less understand it. I haven’t been this physical in more years than I care to remember.”

“It’s not something you need to understand or analyze, Hermione. Just go with it and stop thinking so much.” He grins up at her. “Besides, we’ve already discussed my lack of experience with this sort of thing, so it’s safe to say that this is new for both of us. Well, not new for you but no longer so forgotten.”

“You might not have the practical experience, but you’re a bloody faster learner, Lupin.” She watches him smirk and tries to scowl at him. “You’re also at an age where you’d probably get aroused watching paint dry, whereas I’m nearing forty and having the urge to snog you constantly or to rip your clothes off and ride you at random intervals probably isn’t that normal.”

“If it’s not, it should be,” he says with a cheeky smile. “Just so you know, I have no objections at all if you want to make that our norm. And, for the record, the only way watching paint dry would arouse me is if it was that body paint stuff and I was being artistic with your body.”

She has to laugh, shaking her head as she leans down to kiss him again. “You’re definitely crazy, Teddy.”

“I’d say that I’m crazy for you, but that even makes _me_ cringe in the sheer corniness of it.”

“It is rather clichéd.”

“See, I know that you’re not the type to smile a soppy smile and think it’s romantic when I sound like a tosser, even if I can’t always stop myself.”

“Some women like poetry and sentimental words. Others like expensive jewelry and roses. My idea of romance is just more sensible, like dinner cooked and waiting when a meeting runs late or wet towels being put into the hamper and not left on the floor.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sensible, but I happen to want to buy you flowers for no reason at all. Not roses, but wildflowers maybe. I also want to tell you how being with you makes me feel, even if I sound sappy, and read you romantic nonsense, if only to hear you snort and mutter about how silly it all is.” He brushes his knuckles against her cheek and jaw. “I want to make you happy, like you make me happy.”

She looks at him as she brushes her fingers through his burnt orange hair. No one has ever said anything quite like that to her before, and she has no idea how to reply. He looks so earnest and sincere, but also so very young and optimistic. She isn’t naïve or foolish and knows the world doesn’t have much use at all for sentimentality, but she also knows that he deserves for her to be honest, even if she has no idea what exactly it all means. 

After a moment, she brushes her lips against his. “You do,” she whispers against his lips, resting her forehead against his as she just listens to him breathe. She sighs. “It’s nearly time for tea, so we should probably be going.”

Teddy nods even as he moves his fingers into her hair and pulls her back down for another kiss. He nibbles on her bottom lip before he slowly deepens the kiss. By the time she pulls away, her lips are swollen and wet, and he’s looking at her as if he’s tempted to cancel on his grandmother. “Now that I’ve word-I-can’t-do-during-Tea you, I guess we can go. Do we really have to? I can send her an owl with some excuse.”

"That she wouldn't believe," Hermione finishes. "I was tempted to play sick earlier, but your grandmother is expecting us, so we have to go, even if I'd rather stay here snogging on the sofa."

They stand up, and she fusses with her shirt and trousers, hating that she’s so fidgety when it’s just Andromeda, whom she’s known for twenty years now, albeit not in the context of ‘grandson’s lover’. That new title makes things much different, so she has no idea what to expect. Andromeda is a kind woman, but she’s also haughty, clever, and protective, perhaps overly so at times, of Teddy.

“Stop worrying. There’s no need to be nervous,” Teddy reassures her. “It’s just Gram. She likes you, and she knows how I feel about you. It’ll be fine.”

“She might have liked me before, but now I’m the older woman who seduced her grandson. It’s not the same at all.”

“You wicked harlot, you. Poor defenseless Teddy unable to defend himself from the advances of the sexy older woman who is after him for his fit body and ruggedly handsome face. Woe, whatever will he do now that he’s fallen into her clutches and become her willing, and able, sex toy?”

“Be serious,” she says, swatting his arm as he makes fun of her.

“What? I’m just following your example.”

“No, you’re not. You’re making my concerns into a joke and laughing at me. One is not the other.”

“I’m not laughing at you, Hermione. It’s more like I’m laughing with you.”

“Only I’m not laughing.”

“See, there’s where we run into the problem. You should be happy, not anxious. Gram won’t poison your tea, and, if she tries to hex you, I’ll be brave and step in front of it. Unless it involves warts, because those things always bother me.”

“It is possible to be happy and anxious at the same time, you realize.”

“Maybe. But it’s also a waste of mental energy that could be spent just being happy and enjoying the fact that we had a horrible week and now we’re being brave and doing this relationship thing. You might also remember that Gram mostly took your side in my talk with her.”

“She took my side when I ended things and kept it a secret. Her opinion might very well change a lot now that we‘re actually going to attempt this without hiding.”

“Well, we won’t know until we find out, I guess. I just hate seeing you so anxious.” He pauses. “I’m also scared, in a way, which is silly, I know.”

“You don’t have to be scared, Teddy.“ She squeezes his hand. “I faced Ron and Harry, so I can certainly face your grandmother. I won’t change my mind about us.”

He sighs. “It’s just---she has this uncanny way of making you think about things you didn’t consider, like with me last week, and I just don’t want her to do that with you so you decide that we’re not worth it.”

“Would those be worries I hear you talking about, Lupin?” she asks.

“Point. However, I’m not letting them control me or make me panicky, am I?”

“No, you aren’t.” She smiles and moves closer. “I think we’ve had enough procrastination. Let’s just go and get this over with. I need to be home by six when Ron brings Hugo back, after all.”

“I love it when you use big multi-syllable words,” he tells her with a leer before he pulls her against him and Apparates them to his grandmother’s house.

They arrive in the entry hall, and she swats at his hand when she realizes he’s gripping her bum. “Stop it,” she hisses.

“Oh, sorry,” he says in a tone that indicates it was totally intentional but he’s not going to admit it. “Must have slipped during the trip.”

“Slipped my ar---”

“Good afternoon, Teddy, Hermione,” Andromeda interrupts her. “I’m pleased that you were able to join me for tea today.”

“Afternoon, Gram.” Teddy winks at Hermione before smiling sweetly at his grandmother. He walks over to her and leans down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for asking us over.”

“Hello, Andromeda.” Hermione isn’t sure if she should try to shake her hand or curtsy or just stand awkwardly as all her manners fail her at the moment. The latter wins.

“Are you all right, dear? You look very flushed,” Andromeda says dryly, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I’m fine.” She glances at Teddy, who doesn’t seem to notice anything’s wrong at all. Okay. Maybe Andromeda isn’t looking at her suspiciously, but Hermione’s sure she intends to soon.

“It’s, uh, probably just the Apparating,” Teddy suggest. “Or she’s excited about tea. Um, right. That’s probably it. Did you make those cucumber sandwiches that I love?”

“Excited?” Andromeda repeats slowly, smirking slightly. “Oh, yes, I’m sure that’s it. So very observant, Teddy.” She pats his cheek and nods towards the front parlor. “Sandwiches are in there. Shall we go have tea?”

If it’s possible to create a spell on the spot that will allow her to fall through the floor, Hermione hopes she can think fast. Andromeda is looking at her with that knowing ‘certainly not excitement over _tea_ ‘ smirk and Teddy is being a typical man, thinking with his stomach instead of noticing how bloody awkward this situation is. “Tea would be lovely,” she says. She follows Andromeda into the parlor and sits in an uncomfortable chair with a hard seat and wooden back. 

The Tonks home isn’t particularly large or unwelcoming. It’s actually rather cozy and warm, just the right size for a small family, but the furnishings in the parlor often remind her of Grimmauld Place, with their uncomfortable severity and antique appearance. It’s definitely a room decorated by a Black, whereas the rest of the house shows an influence from Teddy and the Andromeda who turned her back on such formality.

“Did you have a good day yesterday, Gram?” Teddy asks as he sits on the sofa and sprawls out.

“Yes, quite.” Andromeda plays the part of hostess perfectly, pouring their tea and passing around a plate of dainty sandwiches. “It’s always pleasant to see my friend, so lunch stretched long into the afternoon.”

Teddy makes a slight face and shifts. “I’m, uh, glad you had a good lunch.” He sips his tea and looks at her. “We had a good lunch, too. At a pub in the village where Hermione lives.”

“A Muggle village?” Andromeda arches a brow. “How quaint.”

“Yes, a Muggle village. It’s really very charming,” Hermione says, trying to figure out if ‘friend’ is a euphemism for something else. She’s never heard any rumors about Andromeda and Teddy certainly hasn’t mentioned anything, but it could always be a new attachment. It’s not being nosy, she decides, just being curious.

“We also went to the supermarket, which is a bloody nightmare on a Saturday.” Teddy shakes his head, hair fading to turquoise as he smiles. “And there was a trip to the butcher and the vegetable stand and then we went shoe shopping.”

“It sounds like you had a very busy day, Teddy.” Andromeda smiles pleasantly even as her intense gaze rests on Hermione. “How domestic it all is.”

“Saturday is my day to run errands, and Ted wanted to come along,” Hermione explains in a slightly defensive tone.

“It was fun,” Teddy says before he eats a sandwich.

Andromeda nods once. “Yes, I’m sure you enjoyed it. You always did like going shopping with me when you were a child.”

“Hugo is that way now.” Hermione struggles to make polite conversation despite feeling as if Andromeda is judging her and finding her completely lacking. “He likes spending time with me and having special days with just the two of us.” It occurs to her belatedly that she's just compared Hugo and Teddy. God, she hopes no one noticed. She takes a drink of her tea to prevent herself from talking.

“Enjoy it while you can, dear. Too soon, he’ll be grown up and moving on with his life.” Andromeda sips her tea. “They grow up so fast, it seems. One day, I was watching Teddy take his first steps and the next I was watching him move into his own flat.”

“With about eighteen years in between,” Teddy adds with a snort. “Hugo’s a great kid.”

“He’s brilliant,” Hermione says, relieved that her previous slip-up wasn't obvious. “As is Rose. I’m very fortunate to have them both.”

“And do you want more children, dear?” Andromeda asks. “You’re not as young as you once were, but I imagine you’ve a few more good years left.”

“Gram!” Teddy gapes and blushes as he looks at Hermione and then back at his grandmother.

“What? I would eventually like great-grandchildren, so it’s a valid question to ask the woman you’re currently involved with,” Andromeda says simply.

“It’s much too soon to think about that stuff. And, if we reach a point when we _do_ discuss it, it’s our business, not anyone else’s,” Teddy tells her firmly. “Now stop being rude.”

“I haven’t given it any thought,” Hermione speaks up, smiling slightly at Teddy in gratitude for him answering his grandmother’s prying question. She looks at Andromeda and arches a brow. “However, I do have several ‘good years’ left, so there isn’t any need to consider the matter in the immediate future.”

“Well, I suppose that’s sufficient for now. You’ve not ruled out the possibility of more children, so your reproductive parts are obviously in good working order,” Andromeda muses. She holds up a hand when Teddy starts to speak. “Now, dear, do stop your words of outrage. Hermione is a mature woman, not a silly little girl who will feel threatened by honest questions.”

“It takes a lot more for me to feel threatened, Andromeda,” Hermione agrees with just a hint of challenge. Her earlier nervousness has given way to strength, and she’s ready for just about anything Andromeda throws at her.

“See? Now stop your fretting and run along to look at the garden for me. I’d like to have a chat with your paramour,” Andromeda decides.

“But---”

“It’s fine, Ted,” Hermione reassures him. He looks at her for a minute before he slowly nods.

“Okay. I won’t be long, though,” he warns as he sets down his teacup and stands. He leans down and kisses Hermione lightly. “If she gets awful, don’t hex her with anything permanent, okay?” He grins at her before he looks at his grandmother. “And you, be nice.”

“Hmph. He says that as if I’m not always nice,” Andromeda mutters as he leaves the room.

“Perhaps he knows you better than you realize,” Hermione suggests innocently. 

Andromeda focuses on her and her lip curls up slightly. “Perhaps he does, at that,” she grants. “Now that we’re alone, dear, we need to talk. I have little doubt that my grandson won’t rush through the garden to get back here, believing you to be in need of a protector or some other romantic nonsense, so we don’t have very much time.” She pauses. “I would think that he realized that you, above most women I’ve ever met, are not defenseless or weak.”

“I’m sure that he’s aware of my ability to protect myself. However, he does have sentimental ideas at times, so I agree that time is probably limited.”

“He gets that from his grandfather,” Andromeda says with a faint smile. “My Ted was quite the dashing hero, and he liked to run about believing that he was saving or protecting me, despite my certainly not needing it. Fortunately for you, Teddy is observant and aware of your strength. I think it must be part of what appeals to him, as it comes with age and experience.”

She shrugs one shoulder. “It’s possible. He’s certainly observant, knowing things about me that I might not always even admit to myself.”

“He is smitten with you, dear,” Andromeda says bluntly. “In a way that I’ve not witnessed with any other female in his life, which is why I’m concerned. I knew that his relationship with Victoire Weasley would not be long-lasting because she never suited him, nor he her.”

“I can understand you being concerned,” Hermione tells her honestly. “I was and am, actually, about many things.”

“You were unexpected. Oh, I was fully aware of his infatuation with you when he was a teen. I even arranged for you to give him that uncomfortable talk about sex with the hope that it would make him feel awkward around you and quickly end the crush before he set himself up to be hurt.” Andromeda shakes her head slightly. “It seems that my scheme didn’t work the way I intended; it simply put things off for a few years.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a crush, Andromeda. It’s part of growing up,” Hermione points out, trying to deal with the revelation that the sex talk several years ago had been manipulated by Andromeda for a reason.

Andromeda looks at her steadily and asks, “What are your intentions with my grandson, Hermione?”

“My intentions?” Hermione blinks and sips her tea just to have something to do with her hands while she tries to figure out what exactly Andromeda is asking.

“When it was a clandestine arrangement, I assumed it was either merely for physical gratification or that you had fears preventing it from ever being anything more,” she says. “I could support the latter because I know about being in a position where you must put other things above your own personal happiness. Unfortunately, I’ve had experience with that myself, and neither time has turned out perfectly in all regards. Not to mention my own daughter’s experience. Teddy comes from a line of people who seem destined to be happy only in secret.”

“It’s never been about the physical,” Hermione says tightly, blushing faintly at having to discuss such a thing with Andromeda. “I mean, that’s certainly enjoyable, but it’s not why we were originally hiding our relationship. My fears kept me from giving myself completely, and Teddy accepted that for a while.”

“Until he could no longer continue living in secret,” Andromeda concludes. She sighs and glances at her teacup. “He is fully aware what a life lived with such secrets can be like. Despite my best efforts to keep him out of my own private situation, it was impossible, so he has seen how such a relationship can be difficult and draining, even at the best of times.” She looks up and narrows her eyes. “I do not want that life for Teddy. When I was his age, I made the choice to stop the hiding and lost my family, my reputation, my life, but I had my Ted, so we made a new life for ourselves. It was never easy, yet I have no regrets for choosing love over duty.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve heard,” Hermione says softly. She feels slightly uncomfortable hearing Andromeda speak of her personal life because they’re not very close, even if they are friendly, and she feels like she’s hearing things she shouldn’t.

“I’m sure you have. The grand romance that ends in tragedy with my husband then my daughter being buried and leaving me with a baby and no idea what to do with my life. You were so caught up with healing and recovering from what everything you and your friends did that I doubt you heard the whispers and nasty gossip that spread during that time. My sister, Bellatrix, kills my daughter only to die at the hands of a Weasley. My other sister, Narcissa, selfishly manipulates her way around the justice system to ensure freedom for her and her family, a husband who belongs in Azkaban and a son who made stupid choices. It didn’t matter that my name is Tonks, that I was cast out of that family decades ago, that I never believed in that nonsense or followed their rules. I am a Black, I’ll always be a Black, and many in this world can never forget that.”

Hermione frowns and nods. “I remember hearing things, but none of us let such talk go on around us. It was ridiculous then and it’s ridiculous now.” She isn’t sure what this has to do with her and Teddy, unless Andromeda thinks she would care about Teddy being a Black.

“Unfortunately, this world isn’t made up entirely of you and your friends. The majority of people during that time needed symbols of hatred, and my family became one of them. I managed to shield Teddy from it, of course, but I knew what was being said and saw how people treated me despite my doing nothing wrong,” Andromeda continues. Suddenly, she pauses and looks at Hermione. “You have no idea why I’m telling you this, do you? I assure you that I’m not a dotty old woman who wants to ramble about the past. I’m actually confiding something in you that might explain my worries and Teddy’s fears that he can’t tell you about without breaking a promise to me. It isn’t fair to my grandson for me to put my own security above his happiness, so I’m going to tell you and make you promise to keep my secret, as well.”

“I wouldn’t betray a confidence,” Hermione tells her honestly. She’s intrigued now, thinking back over what’s been said and trying to make sense of it now that she’s aware there is actually a point to all this.

“Which is why I can trust you with this,” Andromeda says. “During this time, when the world was trying to recover and rebuild, I met a man. Actually, I’d met him before, but I was married and hadn’t paid him much attention. When we met again, the circumstances were different. I won’t go into the details because it’s impolite, but the first time our paths crossed after the war ended, we both needed to feel again, just briefly, and we indulged in a physical encounter with no expectations or strings. I had Teddy to look after, funerals to arrange, finances to figure out, and it was just overwhelming to be in my forties and have my entire life changed over the course of a few months, to lose everything and gain a grandson who needed me. I was alone and falling apart, even if I refused to admit it to anyone, and I craved that physical connection, no matter how temporary.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she murmurs, listening and watching as Andromeda shifts and smiles slightly.

“Yes, well, my idea of temporary didn’t coincide with his, it seems. He noticed that I was barely keeping it together, and he insisted on helping. Despite my refusals, he became a friend as well as a lover. However, due to the state of the world and other circumstances, I refused to let our relationship be public. This world needed him, you see, and I’d placed love above duty once before only to lose everything. So, I insisted that any relationship remain our secret so that his career wouldn’t be jeopardized because of my family name and people’s skewed perceptions.” 

_The world needed him_. Hermione frowns in thought as she sips her tea. Her eyes widen as she puts the pieces of the puzzle together. Oh, bloody hell.

Andromeda sighs and runs her finger along the rim of her teacup. “For twenty years, we’ve continued our secret affair. He asks constantly if we can just go out for dinner where people will see, but I’m so used to it now that I’m scared to disturb the routine. It has been difficult, years of frustration and hiding, and Teddy’s seen that, along with the happiness and joy that Kingsley brings to my life.”

“I had no idea,” she whispers. It’s unbelievable that the Minster of Magic has been having an affair for nearly twenty years without the papers finding out, but she knows that it’s possible if caution and care are taken. This explains a lot, from Kingsley’s bachelorhood to Andromeda’s desire to stay out of the society spotlight to Teddy’s insistence that they not hide their relationship for long.

“If you had, we’d not have done a very good job at keeping it secret,” Andromeda says with a slight smile. “There are times, more as I get older, when I find myself wondering how things would have been different if I’d not insisted on secrecy. I love Kingsley, dear, and he loves me. We chose our life, so we make do as best as we can with the circumstances. However, I do not want Teddy to be forced into choosing this life or losing someone he cares about, even if I can understand your fears and concerns.”

“I’m not making him keep it a secret,” Hermione tells her. Before she can explain, Andromeda narrows her eyes and interrupts.

"Aren't you?" Andromeda asks. "I spoke with him last week when he was miserable and hurt, and he said that you fear your children's reactions as well as those of your friends. I've also heard from a very reliable source that you're in a position to advance in your department should an opportunity open, which makes another fear, I daresay."

"I do have concerns, especially about my children, but I can't very well live my life in fear." Hermione has to bite her tongue to keep herself from adding 'like you'.

"Fear is rather objective, dear. Compared to happy children and a gossip free workplace, I would think that keeping your private life a secret might seem a worthy sacrifice."

"It's not." She shakes her head slightly. “We talked on Friday, and I told him that I was prepared to take the chance. I didn’t want to hide anymore than he did; I was just too bloody scared to let myself care after the divorce. But I do care about him, a lot, and I‘m ready to try having a relationship, despite still having the natural worries and concerns.”

“Oh." Andromeda blinks at her and requires a moment before she speaks. "Goodness, I just assumed that I’d caught you Saturday morning after a physical encounter and hadn’t realized there had been a discussion that actually resolved issues.” She arches a brow. “I must apologize, I’m afraid, because I thought you’d both given in to the lust without actually talking about any of the issues.”

“Now, Gram. What have I told you about assuming?” Teddy asks as he enters the room. He smiles at Hermione, and she wonders how long he’s been lurking by the door. He crosses to Andromeda’s chair and leans down to kiss her cheek. “You okay?”

“Yes, well, forgive me for seeing clothes strewn all about the place and doubting that much talking occurred,” Andromeda scolds. “And I’m perfectly fine, you silly boy. Quit hovering about like I’m a frail butterfly and sit.”

“Yeah, you’re okay.” He sits back down and glances at Hermione. “I wanted to explain, to tell you, but it wasn’t my secret to discuss. Kingsley is a good man, and he’d make an honest woman out of her if she’d stop being such a stubborn old---”

“You’ll want to stop right there, dear, or Hermione will be forced to look the other way while I hex you.”

“It’s fine, Teddy. I understand,” Hermione says honestly. She looks at Andromeda, who is smiling and looks far less frightening now. “Thank you for confiding in me.”

“Are you fine with us?” Teddy asks Andromeda as he reaches for Hermione’s hand and squeezes. His dark purple hair falls across his forehead as he stares at his grandmother. “I know it’s not conventional and that it won’t be easy. After our talk last week, I really thought about it a lot. It’s just---she’s amazing, you know? And she makes me feel like I haven’t ever felt before, so I can’t _not_ try, even if there are no guarantees.”

Andromeda glances at Hermione before she focuses on Teddy. “There are never any guarantees in life, Teddy. Your entire life can change in an instant, as you know. It isn’t conventional, but I think it’s commendable that you’re both willing to take the chance, especially when you’re aware of the difficulties you‘ll likely face. I won’t lie and say that I approve without reservation. I would prefer that you had found someone who you could be with without having to face adversity and so many concerns. However, you didn’t, so it’s moot. All I want is for you to be happy, my dear boy, so, yes, things are fine, I suppose.”

“Good.” Teddy seems to relax as he moves his fingers along her palm. His hair changes to turquoise as he smiles at her. “Have you tried one of the sandwiches yet? They’re really good.” 

“No, I haven’t had the chance,” she says, accepting a sandwich from him as Andromeda smoothly moves from serious talk to questions about the garden. Her mind is still reeling from everything Andromeda told her and also from the realization that she’s relieved they have his grandmother’s approval, as silly as it sounds. The cucumber sandwich is actually pretty good, despite not being a particular favorite, so she nibbles on it and sips her tea while listening to Teddy talk to his grandmother.

By the time she's finishes her sandwich, she feels more relaxed, though not entirely comfortable. Andromeda is warm to Teddy, smiling and teasing in her way, but she's not as friendly with Hermione. It's understandable, of course, as she can't even imagine how she'd react if it were Hugo or Rose in Teddy's place. Their happiness would be important to her, but she'd also be unable to believe that everything was wonderful and not dwell on the issues facing her child.

With that in mind, she tries harder to participate in the conversation. She normally doesn't have problems talking with Andromeda, so she focuses on behaving normally instead of acting like a guilty teenager caught snogging by a parent. It helps, and the remainder of the tea passes much better than the first half.

Teddy looks at her and smiles before he puts his cup and plate back on the tray. "It's been great, Gram, but we should probably get home. Ron's bringing Hugo back soon, so Hermione needs to be there."

"It was a lovely afternoon, Andromeda," Hermione tells her. She gets up and smiles. "Thank you for having us over."

"It was my pleasure, dear." Andromeda stands. "Teddy, there's a tin of extra sandwiches in the kitchen for you. If you'd like to run and get it, I'll escort Hermione into the hallway."

"Sure," he says, looking from one to the other cautiously before he leaves the room.

"I love my grandson a great deal, Hermione," Andromeda tells her casually as they walk out of the room. She moves closer and smiles pleasantly. "If you deliberately hurt him, I'll ensure that you learn the true meaning of suffering. Now, do come for tea again soon. I'd love to see Hugo and Rose again."

Hermione blinks and almost convinces herself that she imagined the threat. But she knows she didn't, so she nods. "Understood." She looks over as Teddy joins them before looking back at Andromeda. "I'll bring the children for tea some time during the summer. I'm sure they'd enjoy seeing you, too."


	39. Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry drops by before Hermione's Monday meeting

“What happened?”

“Hmm?” Hermione looks up from her paperwork and blinks at Harry. “Sorry, what?”

Harry steps into her office and shuts the door behind him. “Charms up?”

“Of course. No one can hear anything that happens in my office, which is good to prevent eavesdropping but bad if someone happened to get in here and attack me.”

“As if they could get past the strong wards you keep on this place.” He snorts and sits down.

“Yes, well, it’s better to never say never so one doesn’t get too cocky and careless.”

“You’re being careless now, though, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” She rubs her temple and glances at the clock on her desk. The Warrington meeting is in fifteen minutes, so she hopes Harry stops being cryptic soon and says what’s on his mind.

“I saw you with him at lunch,” Harry says simply.

“Is there a crime in having lunch with Teddy?” She arches a brow. “If so, I suppose that means you’ll have to arrest me. If not, I don’t particularly think that it’s any of your business who I eat lunch with, Harry.”

“You promised, Hermione.”

She puts down her quill and gives him a look that she hopes alerts him to the fact that he’s pushing his luck right now. “Harry, I love you. You’re my best friend, my brother, and someone that I respect tremendously. I welcomed your advice and support the other day; however, I’m an adult and don’t need you to control my decisions.“

“I’m not trying to control---”

“Have you ever known me to break a promise?” she interrupts him. “To anyone, much less to you?”

“I---no.”

“Do you think that I’ve changed in the last week and become someone who makes false assurances?”

“Well, I think you’ve changed in the last few weeks, obviously, but, no, I don’t think you’ve suddenly become a liar.” Harry runs his fingers through his unkempt hair and frowns. “So it was just a business lunch? I mean, I didn’t see anything untoward, but I saw him _looking_ at you, and you’re in much better spirits today, too.”

“Oh, no! Alert Azkaban. He was _looking_ at me.”

“Stop being a smart arse. You know what I mean.”

“Sorry. It’s already been a long day, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, and I doubt I get out of here on time today, so I’m snappish.” She shakes her head. “I kept my promise, Harry.”

Harry starts to speak before he closes his mouth and leans back in the chair. “So it’s not just a sex thing?”

“Did you ever actually think it was just sex?”

“Well, yeah.” He shifts and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re so much older, and you can’t possibly have that much in common with him except for the physical stuff that I really don’t want to discuss or even think about. He has a crush, but I thought you were old enough to know better.”

“Goodness. Two olds in one short ramble. That certainly puts me in my place, doesn’t it?”

“If it were me going after one of Victoire’s friends, you’d be smacking me upside the head and telling me to get real,” he points out. “Just because it’s you doesn’t mean you're exempt or something.”

She looks at him for a moment before she nods once. “I would,” she admits. “Unless I thought there was really something there, then I’d support you regardless of my doubts. And, if it didn’t work out, I’d be there for you when it was over.”

“And is there really something here?” he asks. “You promised you wouldn’t encourage him unless you thought you might be able to love him.”

“I know what I promised, Harry. It was just last weekend, and my memory hasn't gone yet. Though I suppose it could any day since I’m so old.” She glances down at her desk before she slowly nods. “I could or I wouldn’t have gone to talk to him on Friday. I wouldn’t do that to him or me.”

“Ron says you’ve been avoiding him unless it's about work.”

“Where did that come from?” She blinks, trying to figure out how they’ve moved from her relationship with Teddy to her avoidance of Ron.

“Since when has my thought process ever been methodical?”

“Point. Yes, I have been avoiding Ron except when it's absolutely necessary to discuss work. He said some really nasty things to Teddy and implied even worse things about me.” She holds up her hand. “I’m sure he didn’t actually mean them, but he needs to learn how to keep his broken nose out of my business. While I’m used to you two interfering in your own way, he crossed the line. I just needed time to get past my anger so I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Yeah. Teddy told me what Ron said. It was uncalled for. Just wasn’t sure why you were avoiding him.” Harry sighs. “You’re really going to do this, then? Even knowing how difficult it’ll likely be and having to realize that the chances of it lasting very long are slim, you’re still doing it?”

She frowns. “I don’t think anyone can predict our chances any more than they could any couple. We have issues, Harry, but there are people out there with far more than us. But, yes, I’m realistic enough to know that, like any relationship, it could end tomorrow as easily as it could in a month or a year. I rarely do anything rash or foolish, and I’m not starting now. It might be unconventional, but I’ve definitely given it a lot of thought,” she tells him. “Can’t you just be happy that I’m happy?”

“I am happy that you are happy, Hermione. I’m also glad that Teddy’s happy. It’s just---” He trails off and glances down at his feet. “Ginny knows, and she doesn’t approve. She thinks I’m being irresponsible by supporting you both, especially when I helped raise Teddy. It’s just going to be stressful when she finds out you’re trying to make a go of it.”

“Why does Ginny even care?” She rubs the back of her neck and glances at the clock. “I mean, Teddy’s old enough to make his own choices, and it’s not like I set out intending for this to happen. Sometimes, I really wish it hadn’t because it’s changed so much of my life. You know how I hate change in my routines. But the rest of the time, I feel happier than I have in years, so I know it’s worth it.”

“Teddy is like a son to us. We helped take care of him when we could and, as he got older, he spent a lot of time at our house. Ginny can’t distinguish between the little boy who always asked for biscuits and the man who is sitting at the desk out there. I can understand because I’ve had trouble with that, too. His place in my family is honestly my biggest problem with the whole thing. If it was some random bloke, I wouldn’t care at all as long as he treated you well. But it’s my Godson, and you’ve been my best friend since I was eleven.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “The last thing I meant to do was cause trouble between you and Ginny. But, honestly, Harry, she’s as judgmental as her mother, and I doubt that it would have mattered to her if it was some random bloke. It would still be someone my age having an affair with someone that young.”

“I know she can be critical. I’ve been involved with her long enough to know all her weaknesses as well as her strengths. Maybe she would have been regardless of who it is, but I think the fact that it’s Teddy is what mostly bothers her. She’ll come around, Hermione. It’s not coming between us in a bad way; it’s just frustrating, I suppose.”

“If you’d rather withdraw your support to make things easier at home, I’d understand.”

“No.” He scowls at her. “Bloody hell, Hermione. Why would you even say such a thing?”

She shrugs. “I know you don’t approve, and I don’t want you to feel forced into accepting it just because I managed to get myself emotionally attached to Teddy.”

“If you came to me and told me that you’d fallen in love with that ugly statue of Poindexter Yardley in the atrium and were planning a wedding, I’d still support you, you daft bint.”

“Oh, well then.” She smiles mischievously. “I guess I wouldn’t have to worry about the statue never being hard, would I?”

“Hermione!” He gapes at her before he starts to laugh. “That was awful. I’m not going to be able to look at that thing now without being disturbed.”

“Blame yourself and Ron. After all, having two male best friends does eventually lead to some transfer of characteristics,” she says. She looks at him intently. “Seriously, Harry, I want you to talk to me if you have problems, okay? If it would help, I could talk to Ginny and try to explain, even if I hate feeling as if I have to defend myself for caring about Teddy.”

“No, it’s probably better if you don’t. You know Gin. She’ll rant and fuss and stew until she gets over it. But, um, it might be best if we have our monthly brunch at your house this Sunday instead of mine. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable if she’s being irritable.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Ron that the venue has changed. I think I’m in such good spirits, as you so quaintly called it, that I’ll be able to see him without having thoughts of payback.” She glances at the clock and makes a face. “I have to go to my meeting now. I’ve actually got some information about the Warrington case that you might find useful. You’re welcome to attend the meeting, if you want, or I’ll stop by in the morning.”

“Morning is probably best; I have a stack of reports to review before I can leave tonight. I’ll let Ron know so we can both be there. That way, you don’t have to track us both down.” He stands up and walks around the desk. After he pulls her to her feet, he hugs her tightly. “Regardless of what anyone says or my own concerns, I’m really glad you’re happy. And I’ll be here when it all falls apart.”

She returns his hug and doesn’t bother to correct his ‘when’ to ‘if’. Realistically, she knows that any relationship can end; her own divorce is proof of that, so it’s not worth pointing out that she’s being optimistic and not thinking that far ahead. After he leaves, she gathers her notes and enters the outer office.

“Caroline, I’ll be in a meeting until four,” she says. “Ready, Lupin?”

Teddy grins and gets his files together. “Yes, Boss.” Once he has everything collected, he joins her and they step out into the hallway. “What did my godpapa want? He shut the door and acted weird when he spoke to me.”

“He knows,” she murmurs, not looking at him or giving any sign that they’re discussing something personal. “We’ll talk about it later. Fill me in on your work with Greg while we go downstairs. I won’t have time to actually review your reports this afternoon, so give me the basics. I’ll catch up on my reading tonight when I’m home.”

“Oh. Right. Later.” Teddy sighs before he opens a file while walking. She waits to see if he drops anything and is rather impressed when he manages to keep it organized. “I’m actually helping Goyle with three cases now, besides Warrington. Two are relatively minor, mostly helping him talk to the children and research. The other one is the homeless boy. I really do like it, but I’m following your advice and considering it seriously before I make a rash choice or anything. I’m having lunch with him on Wednesday to discuss his job and ask some questions.”

“That’s good,” she says as they step onto the lift. It’s more crowded than usual, so they squeeze in near the back since they’re going the furthest down. “I’d suggest having a list of questions ready and writing down others as they occur to you during your meeting. It’s always good to have a pen with you during such interviews.”

“Sounds clever. Will do, Boss.” Teddy nudges her slightly but continues looking straight ahead. Only the slight twitch of his lips indicates that he knowingly bumped her.

She arches a brow and purses her lips but doesn’t say anything. The lift stops at level eight, and Kevin gets on. When he sees them, he grins. “Afternoon, Boss, Lupin.”

“Afternoon, Kevin. How’s Alicia today?” she asks, deciding that it’s not being nosy to ask a polite question. She doesn’t believe in gossiping, but Kevin’s attempted courtship of Alicia Spinnet is so well-known in her circle of friends that it’s not really a rumor.

“Cold and prickly as ever.” He sighs and shakes his head. “You’d think I’d just give up after being rejected for two years, but I guess I’m a masochist. At least I just ask her out for dinner once a month now, so I don’t have to hear ‘No, Entwhistle, so stop asking’ all the time.”

“Maybe if you did stop asking, she’d realize she missed you and would agree the next time,” Hermione muses.

“Well, I’d not ask anymore if I honestly thought she wasn’t interested. She just gets caught up in the past and thinks all men are just after one thing. It's understandable, of course. People say the cruelest things and make the most ridiculous assumptions just because she's never named Ellen's father."

“But if she keeps refusing a date, maybe that does mean she’s not interested,” Teddy points out carefully as they arrive on level nine and leave the lift. “I mean, it could be harassment if you keep pestering her about it, yeah?”

Kevin snorts. “She’s almost said yes twice, and we snogged at the Christmas party last year. She claimed afterwards that she’d just had too much to drink, which is ridiculous because she was drinking water. Besides, I know when a woman is attracted to me, even if she doesn't want to admit it. If she wasn’t so amazing, I’d just give up and move on.” He shrugs. “I will eventually if she doesn’t give me another sign, but I have to try or I’d kick myself for being cowardly.”

“We’re kicking Kevin? Where do I sign up?” Susan asks as she rounds the corner. She grins. “The meeting room is smelly and small. Can’t we just play the ‘Deputy Head’ card and kick Boot and his group out of _our_ meeting room?”

“I get kicked enough without you joining the group, Susan,” Kevin says with a wry smile. He looks at Hermione. “She’s right, though. What’s the purpose of being titled if you let Boot have our conference room?”

“Boot requested the room weeks ago, before we knew we had this case. Stop your whining and practice your charms to get rid of the scent.” She leads them into the room, which _is_ small and smelly. “Bloody hell, this is pretty awful.”

“See?” Susan makes a face. “I told you so.”

“I’ll take care of the smell,” Teddy offers before he casts a freshening charm.

“And the table is too big for just us four, which is part of the space issue,” Hermione says, focusing for a moment to shrink the table. “There. That’s better.”

“Eh, I’d still like to have seen you go all swotty authority on Boot’s bony arse,” Susan mutters. She smiles. “However, this is a definite improvement.”

They sit down and organize their notes before Hermione begins. “Kevin, you’re first. What’s new?”

“Not a bloody thing. I’ve hit a brick wall in gathering information on Warrington. Said brick wall is called Pureblood Society, for the record. A bunch of---”

“Ahem. Watch what generalizations you’re about to make regarding Purebloods, Entwhistle,” Susan warns.

“Close-mouthed people,” he continues as he shifts slightly, “who won’t tell me anything. They’ve closed ranks, regardless of the fact that he’s guilty as sin. Other than that, I managed to finally receive a reply from his company, but they refused to tell me anything except that he wasn’t working there now. Which is rather obvious considering the fact he’s still sitting in Azkaban.”

“Actually, that leads into my news,” Hermione says. She finds her notes and glances over them before looking up. “I got a hunch last week.”

“Oh! What is it?” Susan asks. She glances at Teddy. “Hermione rarely pays attention to instinct over logic, but, when she does, it usually means something brilliant.”

“What did you find out, Boss?” Teddy arches a brow and grins.

“When I was reviewing the file last week, I noticed the name of Warrington’s company and it triggered a memory.” She removes Rose’s Quidditch magazine from her file. “My daughter left this at home after Easter break, and my son has been practicing his reading from it, so I knew I’d heard the name but it took me awhile to figure out where. According to this, the Swift Air Broom Company is under new ownership following a hostile takeover last autumn. The magazine is several months old, but it gives a basic overview of how the company is in new hands and lists some of their marketing changes et cetera.”

“What exactly is a hostile takeover?” Susan frowns and taps her pen against her notepad. “I assume it means that Warrington no longer owns the company.”

“Well, after I located this information, I had a source investigate it for me, since I don’t keep up with broom makers and Quidditch,” Hermione explains. “From what he found out, the takeover was a complete surprise. After all, Swift Air has been the leading producer of racing and recreational brooms for decades, since the Firebolt was released in the early nineties. The company who bought it out quietly took over debts at Gringotts, since the goblins had no qualms trading worthless stock for galleons, and they just took over during a board meeting last October. Warrington was left without a company and, if rumor is true, very little in his vault.”

“That’s why there wasn’t some huge Christmas party last year,” Kevin says, snapping his fingers. “All the neighbors I interviewed mentioned how he became a recluse and didn’t even hold his annual holiday party.”

“I went to see a contact at Gringotts today,” she tells them, “and I found out that he no longer has a vault; it was closed months ago. I was also told that there were several substantial withdrawals during the last four years, all pre-dating the takeover. The first one is three months after his application for Oakwood was declined. My contact wasn't able to provide any more details since the goblins are so difficult, but it's enough to know where to start looking.”

They’re silent for a moment before Teddy sighs. “So, he probably bought the children, then?”

“That would be my assumption. At least, he did at one time. The amounts are exactly the same and sporadic enough that I doubt it was blackmail,” Hermione says. “After he lost Swift Air, there weren’t any more large sums withdrawn. It seems that he basically lost most of what he had saved due to the takeover. With the amount he used to donate and the reports of his spending habits, I doubt there's much left at all.”

“Which explains why he’s still sitting in Azkaban without a solicitor,” Kevin adds. “This can definitely work in our favor. Do we know anything else?”

“I’ve made inquiries regarding the company who was involved in the takeover, but I’ve not come up with anything yet. I’m not sure if it has any connection with his crimes or if it was just a simple business deal, but I figure it’s best to follow the trail to the end to rule it out,” she tells them. “The sums of money also brings up another possibility that I intend to pass on to Ron to handle. That being, who he was paying and whether he had an accomplice.”

“Bugger,” Susan mutters. “Lupin, have the children said anything yet? If they could confirm that Warrington is the only one involved in the abuse, that at least gives us some direction.”

“We haven’t mentioned the abuse yet. They’re just trying to heal and adjust right now, and we don’t want to push them too fast.” Teddy runs his hand through his hair. “They’re talking more, but it’s just general and ‘more’ doesn’t really mean a lot since it’s in comparison to not saying anything at all.”

Hermione listens and nods. “For now, we’re going on the assumption that he acted alone. If he paid such a large sum, it’s likely that he acquired the children from someone and that was the end of the arrangement. However, the last payment was made in August of last year, and the wounds on the children suggest only one to two months of abuse. That means there are possibly bodies hidden somewhere, unless he released the ones he bought, which isn’t very realistic.”

“He could have been doing this for years,” Teddy murmurs, frowning at the table. “God, we don’t even know how many might have come before Beth and Howard. This is just disheartening.”

“Well, we’ve got him now, so he’s not hurting any more children,” Kevin says firmly. “Our job now is to gather enough evidence to support what the Aurors find and make sure he pays for his crime.”

“The Wizengamot will want more than potions analysis and weapons, unfortunately. We need witnesses to show a behavior pattern, we need to tie him in with solid proof that can’t be disputed, and we need to convince them that he’s guilty, because, even if they believe it and agree with the Auror’s evidence, they want it all when it comes to a case like this. Considering the nature of the crime, they'll almost certainly have to sentence him to Endless Sleep if they find him guilty, and that means they’ll be even more cautious and hesitant than normal. Before they sentence death, they want to be convinced without any doubts,” Hermione reminds them.

“I’ve tried to get witnesses, but I’m just unable to move forward,” Kevin says. “Susan, you’re Pureblood. Do you have any links that we could use?”

“Not any that run in the circles Warrington did. He was a Slytherin, which makes it an even tighter and more difficult circle to get past. They protect their own generally,” she explains. “It’s silly, but that’s how it is. I’ll think about it, though, and see if I can remember any of my aunt’s friends who might be able to help. Aunt Amelia might have died over twenty years ago, but she still has loyal friends when I need help. I’ll let you know if I can find anything.”

“I’ll try, too,” Hermione says. “I have one or two contacts who might be able to get us information.” She makes a note to owl Flint for a meeting later in the week. “Susan, were you able to get hold of the files at Oakwood?”

“Still caught up in paperwork. There’s red tape and blue tape and purple tape, I swear. Even with the signed request by Shackelbolt, they’re following procedure to a point of annoyance. I should have them by the next meeting, though.”

“Good. Give me a copy whenever you do get them,” she says. “Ted, keep working with the children. Your reports are showing signs of progression, so that’s definitely a positive.“ 

“Got it, Boss. I’m paying attention to dialects and word usage, too, in the hope that it might narrow down an area to try to find out who they are.”

“Actually, I had information from the Aurors regarding that.” She looks over her notes again. “Ron followed Ted’s suggestion from our last meeting, and the Aurors have a unit working their way through missing persons reports in several of the largest cities in Britain. They managed to identify one of the deceased children and are currently working with a Muggle liaison to figure out the best way to handle the return of the body. So, good job there. At least we might have a chance of identifying them and giving their parents some closure, even if it‘s in such a horrible way.”

“That’s good news. I mean, not really but closure helps,” Susan says. “It’s the not knowing and wondering that can drive a person mad.”

“I have a little free time later this week. Let Ron know that I’d be willing to help look through the reports when I can,” Kevin offers. “If it was my child missing, I’d rather know something solid, even if it was something bad.”

“Me, too,” Teddy adds. “Unless a new case comes up, my Thursday afternoon is pretty light. I’d like to help.”

“I’ll pass it along.” Hermione looks at them and smiles. “Does anyone have anything else?” When they shake their heads, she nods. “Okay, then. Meeting’s over. We’ll meet again next week, same time. I’ve booked our conference room, fortunately, so we’ll meet there like usual.”

They all gather their things, and she changes the table back to its normal size before they leave. She talks to Susan about her intern training as they walk upstairs to catch the lift, feeling better after this meeting than last week's. There’s still a lot to do, but it’s nice to have development in their favor instead of nothing new at all. Tomorrow, she’ll meet with Ron and Harry to fill them in on her discovery, and then she’ll figure out where to go from there.


	40. Competition (Worth the Risk Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Scorpius discuss exam marks, parents, and summer holidays

“What is the fundamental flaw in human nature? Pride - or greed?”

“I know this one.”

“If you get it wrong, we’ll have to wait for another,” Rose points out. “ _I_ happen to know the answer, but if you’re sure that you’re right, go ahead, Malfoy.”

Malfoy frowns and looks between the knocker and her. “How do you know you’re right?”

“Because I’m always right.” He starts to speak and she sniffs. “Except in the very rare case when I’m incorrect.”

“Wrong, Weasley. The word is _wrong_ ,” he says smugly. “Rare case? Do you want a list? I could start now but we might be standing out here a while.”

“What is the fundamental flaw in human nature? Pride - or greed?” The eagle looks between them, and she swears it glares at them. Well, really!

“Neither,” she answers before Malfoy can. “The fundamental flaw in human nature is having the ability to feel. Feelings are the cause of both greed and pride, after all, and they can be a gift as well as a curse. But, without them, we wouldn’t exist.”

“Well done. You may enter.” The door to Ravenclaw tower swings open, and she can’t resist a smug look at Malfoy.

“Was that your answer?”

“Not all of us like to be so wordy,” Malfoy mutters as he pushes past her. “Being smart doesn’t have to mean making other people feel stupid, you know?”

“Hmph. As if I could ever make you feel stupid.” She hurries after him and sticks her tongue out at his back.

“It also doesn’t mean talking just to hear yourself sound clever,” he adds, turning to look over his shoulder in time to catch her with her tongue partially out. She rolls her eyes when he snorts and begins to speak in that uptight tone that she hates while looking at her as if she’s a silly child. “Very mature, Weasley. Your mum would be so proud.”

“My mum is always proud of me,” she tells him firmly. “She’d love me even if I wasn’t clever.”

“Yes, well, my father is always proud of me, too,” he says in a ‘so there’ tone.

“Not this again,” she mutters. “I’ll just mention my dad and then you’ll mention your mother, and we’ll just be back where we started.”

“You started it.” 

"I did not. The introduction of my mum was your doing, if you recall."

"Yes, but I didn't start with the 'my parents always love me part'." He smirks and pushes his pale blond hair away from his eyes as he sits on the sofa nearest the fireplace. It’s warm in the castle, but she’s convinced that he must have weak blood because he gets cold a lot. He’s lucky he didn’t get sorted into Slytherin, or he’d have spent the school year frozen like a Popsicle from Creevey‘s Ice Cream Shoppe. He narrows his gaze. “What’s so funny?”

“What?” she asks, schooling her face into the picture of innocence. It never works on her mum but usually works on her dad.

“You were grinning like one of those obnoxious cousins of yours when they’ve managed to escape punishment.”

“My cousins aren’t obnoxious and I was not grinning.”

“Yes, you were. What were you thinking, Weasley?” he demands to know. Rose wonders if she can make him sulk again. That’s always fun.

“Nothing, Malfoy.”

“You were, too. It was probably rude and common,” he decides.

“If I _was_ thinking something, it certainly wouldn’t be common. I’m far too grand for such a word,” she declares in the lofty tone that Victoire uses sometimes. She purses her lips and picks imaginary lint off her robe while subtly keeping an eye on him.

“You wouldn’t know grand if it came up and bit you on the bum.” He stares at her for a solid minute before his lower lip curls into a pout. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh, do stop your whinging, Malfoy. It’s very _common_.”

“Tell me or I’ll owl your mum and tell her what you made on your Astronomy exam,” he threatens.

“If you do, I’ll owl your father to let him know I made higher than you in two classes,” she threatens back. “I’m sure he’d just _love_ to know a Weasley did better.”

“At least I didn’t get a pathetic E in Astronomy,” he taunts before he nudges her leg with his foot. “Tell me, Weasley.”

“You might have got an O in Astronomy, but you only managed E's in Defense and Transfiguration, and that’s even after I tutored you!” Rose tosses her hair over her shoulder and grins. “As for what I was thinking, you know the magic word, Malfoy.”

He mumbles something, and she gives him the look she’s seen her mum use on her dad and Uncle Harry, arching a brow and frowning at him. It works even better than she expects because he sighs and says, “Fine. I said please.”

“I was just thinking how lucky you are to have been sorted in my house instead of Slytherin because you’d have frozen to death,” she tells him smugly. “I was thinking about what sort of flavor frozen treat you’d be before I realized you’re much too sour to be sweet.”

"You were thinking about licking me?" he squeaks before he snickers in a way that reminds her of her male cousins.

It takes Rose a minute to realize what he finds so funny. When she does, she rolls her eyes, wondering if all boys are so bloody immature. "You're disgusting."

"I'm not the one thinking about licking me." He snickers again. “By the way, in the long list of reasons why I’m glad to be here instead of there, that’s actually rather low,” he informs her. “And I don’t get cold all the time, so stop trying to make me sound weak.”

“You’re sitting by the fire in June.” She looks at the fireplace and then back at him. “I rest my case.”

“The room is just chilled. It’s not me.” He gives her the look he probably thinks makes him seem superior but just reminds her of how Fred and Fabian looked when Gideon managed to prank them by putting a potion in their pumpkin juice that made them rush off to the loo. However, she never tells Malfoy that because it amuses her that he thinks he’s being snooty when he really just looks like he needs to use the toilet.

“Where’s Corner? We should be talking strategy and plotting since we leave next week,” she announces as she sits up and peers around the common room. She doesn’t see a mop of black hair anywhere, which means he’s either in the library or sneaking into the kitchens for a snack. “If he has biscuit crumbs on his robe again when he gets back, I’m making him a color-coded diet for the summer.”

“God, Rose. We already have a schedule for studying and one for practice. Let the poor boy eat his biscuits in peace,” Malfoy whines. “I really don’t know why I put up with you sometimes. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

“Schedules are important, Scorpius! Mum taught me that from the time I was able to write.” She smiles. “And of course we aren’t friends. We’re rivals, except for the part where I’m better than you at nearly everything except Astronomy and playing the position of Seeker,” Rose says. “And you’re lucky that I needed a third person to help in my scheme or you’d still be sitting alone reading your books instead of having so much fun.”

“Definitely rivals,” he agrees with a grin. “My father won’t have kittens if I explain that I’m being sneaky by keeping my enemy close and all that nonsense.”

“Your father needs to get a life,” she tells him. “And he can take _my_ dad with him. To be so wonderful, Daddy has silly ideas sometimes. My mum is brilliant, though, and always asks after you without scratching out curse words like Dad.”

“My father said that you obviously take after your mum more if I find you even remotely tolerable. Mother actually used a _silencio_ on him when he started to give his opinion about your dad,” Malfoy admits with a mischievous smile. “He turned red and wouldn’t talk to her for hours!”

“Your mother and my mum would be great friends, I bet. Mum’s hexed more people than I even want to count, or so they claim. They’re all scared of her.” She laughs. “But she’s not frightening at all. I miss her a lot. Dad has _that woman_ now, but Mum’s all alone.”

“Your brother is home, isn’t he? That’s not alone. I wish I had a brother or even a sister. I asked for one for Christmas for five years, until I was eight, but finally Father explained that Mother couldn’t---well, it was one of the few things they wouldn’t be able to get me. So, the next year, I asked for a puppy instead, but he‘s not the same as a brother.”

“You can have Hugo,” she offers. “Well, I’d share him. He isn’t that bad all the time. Just most of it. God, he’s constantly moving around and fussing with things. Drives me crazy!” She sighs. “But I sort of miss him, too. Not that I’d _ever_ tell him, and, if you do, I’ll steal your magical blanket next winter. And you know I’ll do it!”

“I wish I could share him. It gets so boring at home when my parents are off working and I’ve only got house elves for company.” Malfoy makes a face before he perks up. “I always like when our cousin visits, though. Teddy’s brilliant, and he promised to take me flying this summer.”

"Whenever you meet my mum, _don't_ mention the house elves." Rose frowns and pulls at a string hanging off the pocket of her robe. “I forgot that Teddy's your cousin. He's actually been around our house a lot lately. Hugo’s constantly mentioning him, and he even took Mum and Hugo to some place in Wales that’s all secretive. Hugo can’t spell very well, so I don’t know the name of it, but it sounded like they had fun.” 

“I don’t know why you didn’t just meet that woman over Easter hols instead of avoiding her. Didn’t make her go away," Malfoy points out. "Of course your mum and brother had fun with Teddy. He's brilliant, like I already said."

"Because I didn‘t want to meet her. I wanted to spend time with my family, not her." She shrugs when he mentions how brilliant Teddy is and says, "I guess." Then she smiles when she gets an idea. “Well, this summer, he can spend his time with you cause I’ll be home to keep Mum company so she doesn't get lonely. After Daddy left, she needed me and lots of hugs, so that's my job now, only she never wants us to think she gets sad sometimes.”

Malfoy considers her offer before he nods. “Okay. I’ll take Teddy for the summer. But if you want to share your brother, maybe we can sneak him over using the Floo or something.”

“I don’t know if Mum would let me share Hugo, but we can try,” she says, wondering if she can figure out a way that keeps her from getting blamed. She can always ask Uncle George. He’s good at being sneaky. “Maybe we should go look for Corner? I want to go over our practice plans for this weekend, since it’s our last one here at school.”

Malfoy leans his head back and rolls it to the side to get a look out the window. “It’s almost dusk, which means he’s probably in the library. Since he got an A in Potions, he mentioned studying more, which is just silly since it won’t change the A this year.”

“Studying is never silly,” she tells him as she gets to her feet. She reaches up and shoves her hair away from her face, frowning as she tucks several curls into the strap she’d been using to try to keep it fastened back. She has her dad’s blue eyes and auburn hair all her own, but the wild curly mess is definitely inherited from her mum. She finds it really annoying, but figures it’s a small price to pay when she also inherited her mum’s cleverness and organizational skills.

“It is when you’re leaving school in a week and all your exams are finished.”

“Nope, not even then. Knowledge is power, Malfoy. If you don’t continue to learn and grow, you’ll be stagnant and stupid,” she says, repeating her mum’s words with a nod of her head.

He looks at her for a moment before he nods. “Definitely don’t want to be stupid. That’s something Father _wouldn’t_ likely forgive.”

“Come on, Malfoy. Let’s go find Corner so we can discuss our strategy.” She grins as he rolls his eyes but stands up without whinging. “You know, if you’re really nice to me and call me ‘Rose, the smartest person in the world’ from now until the Leaving Feast, I might help you work out a study schedule for Defense and Transfiguration so you can catch up over the summer.”

He snorts. “In your dreams, Weasley. Maybe ‘Weasley, the biggest smart arse I’ve ever met’ but I certainly won’t say anything about you being smart. You’re already smug enough as it is.” He smirks. “Besides, you’ll help me figure out the study stuff anyway because you’ll want to gloat if my marks improve.”

“Watch your language, Malfoy. Some of us have manners.“ She frowns at him as they leave the common room in search of Corner. Finally, she has to laugh as she hits his arm. “For once, you’re probably right, Malfoy. I think I’m in shock! Oh no, I might fall over,” she says, staggering slightly and reaching out to the wall for support. He sniffs haughtily and pouts, which just makes her laugh even more as they continue their walk to the library.

End Interlude


	41. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to pick up Hugo

On Wednesday, Hermione is actually finished with work shortly after five. There’s still a lot on her desk, of course, but she’s done everything she intended to for the day, so she decides to actually leave early, for her. The office is empty when she walks through, and her gaze lingers on Teddy’s desk. Today was his meeting with Greg to discuss the job opportunity, and she wonders how much longer he’ll call that desk his own. She doesn’t know how the meeting went, of course. She just knows that he has a passion for helping children that he doesn’t seem to display for law.

When the lift reaches the lobby, she walks to the public Floo and steps through into the sitting room of the Burrow. After she dusts off her clothes, she listens carefully but doesn’t hear Hugo or Lily. While Lily might have already gone home, she knows Hugo is rarely quiet, so he must be outside.

“Oh, Hermione. It’s you. You’re early, dear,” Molly says as she peeks into the room.

“I finished up in the office earlier than I have lately,” she explains. “Is it a bad thing that you consider it early when I’m actually still late? One of these days I’ll actually make it a habit to get out of the office on time.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that it’s bad, per se, but you do work too hard. I worry what will happen when both the children are in school, and you’ll have no excuse not to spend twelve hours a day at work.”

“I rarely have to work after six anymore, so I’ve improved a lot since the children were born.”

“And how many hours a night do you work from home?” Molly asks pointedly. “It’s wonderful that you’ve found a career that you enjoy, dear, but work is not a substitute for life. Now, come have a cup of tea with me before you rush off. It‘s been absolutely ages since we‘ve had a nice chat.”

Hermione knows from experience that it’s pointless to remind Molly that they had a chat just a few weeks ago. Instead, she smiles. “Tea would be lovely, thank you.” She glances around the Burrow as they walk to the kitchen. “Is Hugo hiding somewhere?”

“He’s outside in the workshop with Arthur.” Molly gives her a wry smile. “They went to the Muggle cinema in Ottery this afternoon and saw a film with a flying whatchamacallit. Of course, Arthur had to rush right off to a shop to buy one so he could attempt to make it fly. Hugo is helping him.”

“A flying what?” The idea of Arthur trying to make something fly and getting Hugo involved has her cautious automatically.

“Honestly, I didn’t pay attention to the name of it. It’s like Sirius’ old motorbike but you make the wheels turn with your feet,” Molly tries to explain. “It’s a silly looking contraption.”

“A bicycle?” Hermione walks over to the window to peer out, but the workshop isn’t at an angle for her to see inside. “He’s trying to make a flying bicycle?”

“That might be what it’s called. Regardless, I doubt he manages to be successful.” Molly puts the kettle on and fills it with water.

“Aren’t you concerned?”

“Why? I’ve already told Arthur that if he breaks his neck, I’ll not take him to St. Mungos until tomorrow, so he’ll be careful. He knows I don’t make idle threats.”

“How exactly is Hugo helping?”

“He was laughing at his grandfather and holding a plug when I went to check on them earlier. Arthur won’t let him get hurt.”

“Oh, I know that. I was just wondering what task he’d been assigned.”

“Keeping an eye on Grandpa,” Molly confides with a smile. “Hugo is the more responsible of the two, I’m afraid.”

“Hopefully Arthur will get tired before he can get it flying. Breaking a bone is never pleasant.”

“He‘ll fuss with it and tinker until dinner, then he‘ll forget about it until he‘s in the shop again.” Molly turns to face her and nods at the table. “Now, the kettle’s on, so sit down and tell me how you’ve been.”

Hermione obeys automatically, not even pausing to consider whether she wants to sit or not. There’s a quality about Molly that apparently forces anyone around her into feeling like a child who has to listen to their mum. Despite having two children of her own, Hermione’s never managed that tone, so it must be inherited and not learned. Once she’s sitting, she shrugs. “I’ve been doing well,” she says honestly. “Work is very good at the moment, and I’m trying to get used to the idea of a quiet house come September.”

“It can be quite an adjustment to make. I remember when Ginny went off to school. I nearly went crazy that year, wandering around aimlessly and knitting far too much. I nearly got a job, you know? Arthur encouraged me to do whatever struck my fancy, but, in the end, I couldn’t figure out what I’d even try to do.”

“I didn’t know that,” Hermione admits. “I mean, about you nearly working.”

“Yes, well, you were twelve at the time, so it isn’t as if I’d have shared such a thing.” Molly smiles. “You’ll do much better, of course, since you already work and have quite a few people in your life to fill the silent moments. I was fine once I adjusted, after all.”

“I think it’ll be okay after I get used to it. It’s just been so long since I’ve been on my own that I’m dreading it.”

Molly gets up when the kettle whistles. “I’m always here to talk if you need an ear. You know that, don’t you, dear?”

“Of course.” Hermione picks up a biscuit from the tin on the table and nibbles on it.

“How is that awful case going? Those poor children! When I heard about it, I was just shocked at how someone could do such a thing.”

“It’s going okay. I can’t really say anything specific, but we’re doing our best.”

“I’m sure you are. With you, Ron, and Harry involved, that man will wish he’d never been born, I’m sure,” Molly says confidently. She levitates the tea tray to the table and sits back down. “Is Rose excited to be coming home?”

“She seems to be, though I don’t think she intends for it to be much of a holiday. In her last letter, she told me she’d made a practice schedule for her Quidditch training as well as a study schedule so she can be prepared for her second year. I’ve been informed that we’re going to Diagon Alley to buy her books early, so she can be ahead of her classmates,” Hermione says with a laugh. “God, was I that bad when I was her age?”

“You were worse, dear. Rose has Quidditch to keep her from burying herself in books, while you simply used your free time to create study schedules for the boys. I remember when Ron received them at the start of the summer and always used language that earned him extra chores.” Molly smiles at the memory and shakes her head. “It seems like just yesterday, really, yet it was so many years ago. Even with all my grandchildren, I still have trouble admitting my babies have grown up.”

“I think that’s just part of being a mother.” She smiles. “I find it difficult to believe that mine are both going to be at Hogwarts in the autumn when it doesn’t feel like very long ago when I was the one boarding the train. The years go so quickly.”

“Yes, they do. Moreso the older you get, it seems,” Molly murmurs. She sips her tea and looks at Hermione. “And is there any other news you wish to share, dear?”

Hermione shifts and takes a drink of her tea before she shakes her head. “Not that I can think of.”

“Ah, well. I suppose I thought you might finally tell me what’s going on with you and Teddy Lupin, but it appears that I’ll just have to wait longer.”

“What?” She can practically feel the color drain out of her face as Molly purses her lips. “Who told you?”

“You just did.” Molly sets down her teacup and straightens her shoulders. “I trust that you’re protecting yourself?”

“What?” Hermione cringes slightly as she finds herself struck dumb for the second time in mere minutes.

“Birth control, dear. You’re still young enough to be concerned about unplanned pregnancy. While I would love to have another grandbaby to spoil, I’d prefer that it be planned and not an ‘oops’ because you forgot protection.”

Oh, bloody hell. Molly isn’t sitting there discussing contraception with her as if she’s talking about the weather. This definitely must be a very bizarre dream. “Uh, right. Of course. I mean, yes, I’m protecting myself.” The fact that she just squeaked isn’t lost on her, which just makes this situation even more odd.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hermione. I had seven children, so I certainly know about sex,” Molly says bluntly. “I also remember catching Teddy’s parents more than once in delicate situations, so I daresay the boy probably inherited that randiness along with everything else, which is why I wanted to make sure you were being careful.”

“If this is a dream, then I think it’s time that I woke up.” She looks around but nothing changes.

“Drink your tea or it’ll get cold. Now, why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to ask to speak with me, and I promised myself that I’d not meddle, but I’m an old woman and can’t very well wait forever.”

“Weeks?” Hermione gapes at her. “But Harry and Ron didn’t even find out that long ago.”

“Oh? I knew before them?” Molly smiles smugly.

“How?” she asks again, trying to wrap her brain around this entire peculiar conversation.

Instead of replying, Molly points to the wall beside the table. Hermione glances to her left and her eyes widen when she finds herself staring at the Weasley clock. Over the years, it has grown and now covers a huge space on the kitchen wall. Her gaze rests on Fred’s arrow, which is permanently pointing at ‘In a Better Place’ before she notices that her arrow is pointing at ‘Burrow’. It takes a moment of reading to find Teddy’s arrow, which is pointed at ‘T’s Flat’.

“Did you really think I’d not notice how often Teddy’s arrow was pointing at ‘Hillside’ or yours was pointing at his flat?” Molly snorts. “I like to keep an eye on the family, just to make sure that you’re all okay, and certain things do become conspicuous over time. Not only that, but Hugo talks about ‘Teddy this’ and ‘Teddy that’ quite a lot. It didn’t take much effort to connect the two, especially after his arrow showed he stayed overnight quite a few times.”

“God. I didn’t even think---” She trails off as she stares at the clock. Teddy has had an arrow since Harry was named as Godfather, and hers was never removed even after the divorce, despite there being a time when Molly was distant while trying to deal with the separation. She sighs and runs her hand over her face. “Okay. Go ahead. I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” Molly frowns slightly. “Do you need more tea? Eat another biscuit. You’re getting too skinny.”

“I am not.” Hermione glances down and sees definite proof of a belly and hips that are far from skinny. She looks back up. “Stop trying to distract me with biscuits, Molly. You can call me names, tell me I’m mental, or kick me out of the house. Just do whatever you’re planning to do so I can stop being anxious.”

“What names would I call you, Hermione?” Molly arches a brow. “Are people calling you awful things?”

“What? No. I mean, well, I’m too old to be involved with Teddy---”

“Really? Are there Muggle rules for such things? That’s quite fascinating. We’ve never had such rules here in our world. Of course, that means you don’t have to abide by them if you don’t want to, which is quite brilliant.”

“Stop interrupting,” she mutters crossly. “I’m wicked and immoral for seducing someone as young as Teddy, and it’s disgusting.”

Molly sighs. “If you would like for me to say such nasty things, I can, but I’d certainly not mean them.” She holds up a hand. “No, now it’s time for you to not interrupt. Granted, I was shocked when I first noticed the clock, and I assumed it must be faulty. However, I soon realized that it was indeed, working, and I had to seriously consider what I’d figured out. I’ll admit that I was disappointed when you and Ron separated, and I’m not overly impressed with the fact that he’s got a new lady friend that we _still_ haven't met even after several months, but what sort of mother would I be if I didn’t accept you, dear?”

“But when Ron and I divorced, you were so distant and blamed me.”

“I didn’t blame anyone. I was just so surprised. You two were always so happy, and I’ve known since you were children that you loved each other. It hurt to watch you both go through that mess, and I didn’t know how I was supposed to treat you. You’d become my daughter, after all, and suddenly, you weren’t anymore. For all I knew, you intended to divorce the family, too. I admit that I handled the situation badly, but I never intended for you to feel unwanted or unloved.” Molly reaches across the table to set her hand on Hermione’s. “I only want what’s best for you, Hermione, just like I do for all my children.”

“Now you’re trying to make me cry,” Hermione accuses softly. “I’ve dreaded telling you for weeks, since before I even knew what Teddy and I have isn’t just temporary.”

“Well, that was just silly, wasn’t it?” Molly smiles and squeezes her hand. “We mothers are resilient creatures, you know? It might have been a shock at first, but we adapt quickly and try not to judge. It might not be easy, yet it’s just part of our job. You know that, of course. You’re a good mother, too.”

“Thank you. I want to be a good mother, but sometimes I wonder if I am or not.”

“You are. The children are loved, and that’s the most important part of being a mum.” Molly tilts her head slightly. “Now, what’s this concern about being called names or told you’re crazy?”

“Ron said I was mental for dating someone so young and who’s so close to the family, and perhaps you saw his visit to Teddy's flat? And Ginny is freaked out, according to Harry, and even Harry doesn’t really approve, though he's trying.” She makes a face. “I nearly let Teddy go rather than face the problems we’d have to deal with by being together.”

“Ah, yes. Last week, right? Your arrows didn’t cross paths except at work,” Molly says. At Hermione’s look, she smiles sheepishly. “Oh, honestly. Arthur and I are too old to go out and kick up our heels, so we find our entertainment where we can. We were both worried something might have happened but then Friday night---”

“Right. We talked Friday. All night.” She can feel the blush spread over her face as she shifts awkwardly. “Arthur knows, too?”

“Of course. I rarely keep secrets from him and certainly not something that might come as a bit of a shock. As for what you were saying, I can understand Ginny’s reservation, but I know my daughter. She cares about you a great deal, and she’ll come around. Ron accuses you of being mental dozens of times a year, so this is simply just another in a long line of him not really understanding you or your actions. And Harry is a good friend who will support you even if it doesn’t make any sense to him. See, that’s what family does, dear. We might not agree, might not approve, might not understand, but we continue to love and support regardless.”

“I just---I didn’t expect this,” she confesses. “I expected to be cut out completely.”

“You must have a low opinion of me,” Molly says quietly. “It’s been a great many years since I’ve judged you based on hearsay or supposition, Hermione. I’d like to think that we’ve put that behind us by now.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been so confused lately, and this relationship wasn’t expected at all.” She reaches out her other hand to rest on top of Molly’s. “I might not say it often, but I’m glad you’re my mother-in-law. Even if we’re divorced now and you do meddle.”

“Considering your own nagging tendencies and habit of interfering in business that isn’t necessarily yours, I think we can both agree to overlook my meddling,” Molly says with a smile. “When do you plan to bring your young man for dinner?”

“He’s been over for dinner before.”

“As Harry’s godson and as the son of two people that I cared about, but not as your beau. There’s quite a difference in title there, dear. Arthur and I are looking forward to playing the part of overprotective parents and fussing over you, so you very well can’t disappoint us. We’re too old for such things.”

“I notice that you dwell on your age when you’re attempting to manipulate us, Molly.” Hermione arches a brow. “If you start sighing and playing at being weak, I’ll be forced to do something drastic, like call a family meeting to suggest that you attend some sort of social club or a class on something fascinating like basket weaving in an effort to get your spirits up.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Molly says before she frowns. “Fine. You’d better not ever suggest that silly Muggle nonsense to the family.”

“Then you’ll stop plotting to make Teddy feel uncomfortable.”

“I’d never make the poor boy feel uncomfortable! He’s a clever young man and quite handsome. I can certainly see why he’d catch your eye, even if I am surprised you’re attracted to someone younger. I honestly expected an older man to interest you after you were ready to move on from Ron.”

“You’re probably no less surprised than I,” she tells her. “I really do like him, Molly. I wouldn’t be taking such a chance if I didn’t.”

“I know, dear. It’s why I don’t have such an issue supporting your choice, because I know you’ve probably thought far too much about it and aren’t acting rashly.” Molly pauses. “Do you expect for it to be difficult to date him openly? You sound worried.”

“I think a lot of people won’t understand or will be stuck on the age difference or the fact that I helped raise him, which I know makes it odd.”

Molly nods and pats their hands. “We Weasleys are used to people talking nonsense about us, so they can say whatever they want as long as it’s not to our faces. If they make the mistake of doing that, they’ll have to deal with us all.”

Hermione smiles slightly. “In this case, I don’t really think you can speak for the whole family. I appreciate the thought, though.”

“Unfortunately, you’re probably right,” Molly murmurs. “I assume that George knows. If you haven’t told him, he’s probably figured it out anyway. That boy is too clever for his own good. Does anyone else know?”

“Teddy and I just decided to stop keeping our relationship a secret, so we haven’t been out in public or anything yet. I mean, we don’t plan to send out owls or wear signs or anything, but we do intend to begin dating openly, once I tell the children.”

“It might be difficult for the children. It usually is when a parent begins seeing someone after a death or, in this case, a divorce. They’re strong, though, and they love you.” Molly picks up her cup and sips her tea. “I won’t ask any more questions because it’s obviously making you feel awkward to discuss your personal life with me, but my offer stands. I’m always here if you need an ear or you just need someone to help you kick some arse.”

Hermione blinks at Molly then laughs. “I’ll remember that,” she promises before she picks up another biscuit. “I suppose I can eat just one more before going to get Hugo and make sure Arthur hasn’t hurt himself.”


	42. Supposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione & Hugo go out for dinner

“Mum, you’re early!”

“I finished work earlier than normal today,” Hermione says. She feels slightly guilty that Hugo considers 30 minutes overtime ‘early’ when most people leave the office promptly at five. Despite putting the children as her priority, the reality is that her job often requires her to stay in the office late or work from home. It’s a balance to give both areas the proper attention they deserve, but she does her best to not work long hours that keep her away from the children. Molly’s probably right to worry about her possibly living at the office once the house is silent come autumn, she realizes.

“I’m helping Grandpa,” Hugo tells her proudly. He waves his hand towards an old bicycle that is in pieces on the ground by Arthur.

“He’s always a great help,” Arthur chimes in. He smiles as he slowly stands from his kneeling position. “Hello, Hermione. I hope you‘re doing well today.”

“I’m doing very well, thank you.” She considers her conversation with Molly and steps forward to give Arthur a hug. He laughs and returns the hug, looking bemused when she pulls back.

“What was that for?”

“For being you,” she tells him simply, giving him a sheepish smile instead of a specific answer. 

“Oh?” He blinks and glances out the door of the workshop before he nods, white hair falling across his forehead. “Oh. Well, you‘re our daughter.”

“I want a hug, too,” Hugo declares, holding out his arms as he kicks his legs up beneath the work table he’s sitting on. She smiles at Arthur and turns towards Hugo.

“Now, how can I refuse a demand like that? Especially from my mature son who doesn’t let me hug him nearly enough these days,” she says, walking towards him and hugging him tight. She pulls away and tickles him. “And what’s this about you going to the cinema?”

“We did,” Hugo says in between bursts of laughter as he swats at her hands. “ _Muuuum_ , stop that.”

“Stop what?” she asks innocently as she moves her fingers along his ribs and tickles him. She leans forward and kisses his cheek as she drops her hands. “Okay. Let‘s go get you washed up so we can get dinner.”

“Can we go out to eat tonight?” He hops off the table and hands Arthur the bicycle part he’d been holding. “We can work on it more tomorrow, Grandpa.”

“We will. I need to remember how it all goes together, then we can try flying it,” Arthur promises. He looks at Hermione and adds, “That is, _I_ can try flying it.”

“I’m gonna be his watcher. If he breaks his neck, I have to tell Gran.” Hugo smiles sweetly up at her as they walk back to the house. “Dinner?”

“Where did you want to go?” She certainly wouldn’t mind the excuse to not have to cook tonight.

“Hmmm.” Hugo considers it as they enter the kitchen. “Finnigan’s? They make the best treacle tart ever.”

“Really?” Molly teases. “And here I thought that I made the best one ever.”

“For a restaurant,” Hugo clarifies with a nod. He washes his hands and arms up to his elbows to get rid of the dirt and grease from their bicycle project. “Yours is the bestest made at home.”

“Such a sweetheart.” Molly looks at her and grins. “You’ll have to keep an eye on this charmer, you will.”

“Am not a sweetheart. That sounds girly and dumb.” Hugo makes a face. “But you call Uncle Bill a charmer, so I don’t mind that.”

Hermione laughs. “He’s definitely a handful already. Now finish washing up, and we’ll stop by Finnigan’s for dinner. Seamus mentioned that I needed to bring you by some time soon, anyway.”

“Great!” Hugo grins widely before he focuses on scrubbing his hands. When he finishes, he dries off and runs into the sitting room to gather his things.

“No running in the house,” she calls out after him.

“Gran doesn’t care,” he calls back.

“She might not, but I do.” She looks at Molly and shakes her head.

“Now, don’t you give me that look, young lady. This house has survived seven children running all around, not to mention more grandchildren than I care to count right now. He’s an energetic boy, but he’s always careful.”

“I know. I’d just prefer that he keep the running outside,” she says. “However, it’s your house, so I’ll not presume to impose rules on his behavior here. I’d better go help him find his shoes, since he always seems to lose one.” She gives Molly a hug and smiles. “Thank you for tea, and your support.”

“Of course, dear. And please remember that I’m always here if you need me,” Molly reminds her. “You‘ll come for dinner one evening soon, after Rose is home, and bring along your young man. Oh, and the last time I saw his shoes, he’d kicked one under the sofa and the other was by the table. ”

It isn’t an invitation, so Hermione can’t refuse. Instead, she nods and goes to the sitting room, where she finds Hugo scowling with one trainer in his hand. “You know, if you kept your shoes organized when you insist on taking them off, you wouldn’t constantly be losing one.”

“Not now, Mum. I’m thinkin’,” he tells her solemnly.

“Check under the sofa,” she suggests.

“I didn’t kick it under the---Oh, there it is.” He smiles sheepishly. “Didn’t think I’d kicked it there.”

“But you were about to deny it without even looking.”

“I should have looked first. I know, Mum. Next time, maybe I’ll remember.”

“So long as you eventually do, I’ll be happy,” she mutters, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “We’ll take the Floo to Finnigan’s once you’re ready. Of course, us eating out tonight means you’re stuck with frozen pizza made at home on Friday.”

“That’s okay. I want tart tonight.” Hugo grins. “Wanna hear ‘bout the film Grandpa took me to see? It was _weird_ and Rose would hate it cause it was prejudiced.”

“It was prejudiced?” she asks carefully, not exactly certain that he means that word.

“Yeah. People hated this woman just cause she looked different and was kinda mean. Course, wouldn’t you be mean if people hated you just cause of how you looked?” He shakes his head. “I kept wanting her to hex someone instead of cackling and being mean.”

“Hexing isn’t being mean?”

“Depends on what kind of hexing,” he declares after a moment of thought. “Nothing too nasty, but just a good zap to their bums. Maybe stop them from singing.” He makes a face as he ties the laces of his trainers and then stands up.

“You saw a film with singing and prejudiced people?” She feels a headache coming on as she tries to figure out what the bloody hell Arthur took her son to see at the cinema. She tosses powder into the fireplace. “Finnigan’s.”

“Yeah, it had too much singing,” Hugo confides before he steps through the Floo. She follows him and performs cleaning charms on their clothes to remove the soot once they arrive at Finnigan’s. “Don’t tell Grandpa, though, cause I said I didn’t mind all that singing.”

“I won’t tell him.” She leads him to an empty table. “What was the name of film, Hugo?”

“The Wizard of Oz.” He smiles. “It was really old but the lady who sold us our tickets said it was a classic, whatever that means. The cinema is doing this special family film thing that I didn’t really understand but Grandpa says we might go see more films during the summer cause they’re really cheap.”

She looks at him a moment before she laughs. “Goodness. The Wizard of Oz? Here I was worried that you’d seen something horrid. I saw that when I was younger.”

“Really? You don’t like films that much,” Hugo points out. “Rose told me all about prejudice ages ago and said I should never let other people think for me or tell me how I should feel. She also said anyone who makes fun of someone deserves to be hexed bad, so she’d _hate_ that movie. Just cause the witch was all green and ugly, they didn’t like her.”

“Well, she also wasn’t very nice,” Hermione says delicately. “Rose is right, though I wasn’t aware that she’d been giving such lessons.”

“But I wouldn‘t be very nice if people treated me like that just cause I have freckles. She‘s not pretty like the floating witch, but I bet she was nice when she was younger. ‘sides, none of them were real witches or wizards, like us.” He nods. “Yep, she did. To all of us last summer during the big birthday party,” Hugo says. “She’s not gonna get in trouble, is she?”

“Of course not. I’m the one who told her about prejudice and thinking for yourself, after all.”

Hugo grins as he opens a menu. He looks at her slyly before he asks, “Can I have a flying monkey?”

“Who’s a flying monkey?” Seamus asks as he approaches their table. “Oh, there’s the monkey.” He ruffles Hugo’s hair and grins.

“Am not a monkey. We’re here for the treacle tart!” Hugo smiles widely. “Course, Mum will make me eat something all healthy first, but I’m really here for pudding.”

“Mum’s are bad about that, aren’t they?” Seamus asks in a whisper as he winks at Hermione. “Tart tastes a lot better than anything _healthy_.”

“Mum’s are also good at hearing whispers,” Hermione points out. “Just for that, I should make you eat a plate full of vegetables.”

Hugo wrinkles his nose. “You won’t do that cause you’re the best mum ever.”

“Hmph.” She arches a brow and then smiles at Seamus. “Looks busy tonight.”

“It’s Wednesday. You’ve actually beat the worst crowds by getting here early. Around half-seven, the bar will be so bad yeh can’t even reach it to order a drink.” Seamus grins. “Not that I’m complaining cause the more they have to drink, the more they spend. Have to support my addiction to fancy clothes somehow.” He primps and fusses with his colorful silk shirt.

Hugo waits until Seamus stops talking before he says, “Can I have the roast and mashed potatoes, Mum? It’s got vegetables, too.”

“That sounds good,” she tells him. “I think I’ll have the same, though the adult portion, of course. And lemonade to drink.”

“And what do yeh want to drink, little man?” Seamus asks.

“Lemonade,” Hugo says with a grin. “Mum and I are copying each other tonight.”

“I’ll put the order in cause your server is pretty busy,” Seamus tells her. “Then I’ll bring your drinks back and take a short break.”

After Seamus leaves, she looks at Hugo. “No flying monkeys.” She smiles. “So is that film why Grandpa decided to make a bicycle fly?” She hasn’t seen the film in decades, but can’t recall a scene with flying that didn’t involve broomsticks.

“Yeah. The mean woman after the yippy dog is flying her bicycle during that storm, and Grandpa was really interested,” Hugo says. “Didn’t want to tell him that I don’t think it was our kind of flying. You know how Grandpa gets. ‘sides, I get to help him, and I love that.”

“Oh, okay.” She doesn’t remember the scene at all but nods anyway. She smiles when Hugo mentions ‘how Grandpa gets’. “I know you love helping him in his workshop.”

Seamus returns with their drinks and sits in the chair next to hers. “So, are you ready to go off to school?”

Hugo makes a face. “No, but I have to cause Mum and Dad won’t let me stay home.”

“Hogwarts is a lot of fun, Hugo. I met your parents there, after all,” Seamus says. “If you’re lucky like me, you’ll make friendships that last forever. Plus, there’s lot of secret passages and hiding spots to explore, so there’s always trouble of some sort to get into.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Hermione says, lightly smacking Seamus on the shoulder as he laughs.

“Coming from _you_ , that’s rich.” Seamus leans forward and confides, “Your mum probably knows most of those secret places with all the sneaking around she used to do there. Broke many rules, our Hermione, yet was the best bloody prefect Gryffindor ever saw. Would have been Head Girl, no doubt.”

“You broke rules?” Hugo gapes at her. “Mum!”

“Of course I didn’t. Don’t listen to Seamus.” She smiles. “Rules are important and should be followed. There might have been a very few times when a situation required that I bend a rule, but I tried to never break any.”

“Bend?” Seamus snorts and takes a drink of his pint. “Twist and turn and distort so they’re utterly unrecognizable, maybe.”

“Still don’t wanna go,” Hugo tells them. “Don‘t see why I can‘t learn at home instead. I know I have to go, but it doesn‘t mean I have to like it.“

“Once you get there, you’ll like it,” she tells him confidently. She hates that he lacks Rose’s excitement for school, even if she can understand it. She decides to change the subject because Hugo’s touchy about Hogwarts unless he’s talking about the trouble he and his cousins can get into once he’s there. “Have you heard anything else on your application?”

Seamus shakes his head. “No, they’re giving us the run around still and doing their best to not give us an answer, one way or the other. Bloody pathetic when we’d have a better chance in the Muggle world than here.”

“This world lags behind the Muggle world in many social issues. It can be accepting, in a lot of ways, yet so narrow-minded in others,” she tells him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “If they do decline it without a valid reason, let me know. I’ve had to deal with Oakwood before and my new intern has some contacts there, so maybe I can stir up enough trouble that they decide their personal thoughts about some relationships aren’t enough to stand before the Wizengamot to defend their actions.”

“Susan? I heard about her finally deciding to enter the program.” Seamus glances at Hugo, who is using sugar packets to create a pattern on the table. “If they decline, Dean and I will discuss it and figure out if we want to deal with that or not. Could always just go to the Muggle world, I suppose, even if it wouldn’t be that fair to a child to be raised around something they couldn’t ever use.”

“Magic isn’t as important as parents who love you,” Hugo says, glancing up and smiling. “I wouldn’t care if I never got a wand if it meant I had Mum and Dad.”

“Yeah?” Seamus smiles. “I’ll remember that, Hugo. As well as the fact that you’re a right good listener.” He gives Hermione a look and laughs. “Now, Mum, you can’t scold him for eavesdropping since we were talking right here in front of him.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she says. “But, yes, he’s a very good listener, it seems. I need to be more careful and stop thinking he‘s too young to understand.”

“I understand lots,” Hugo tells them before he goes back to working on his sugar packets.

“Yep, he’s definitely your son.” Seamus smiles cheekily. “Ron doesn’t always listen that well.”

“Ron listens better than a lot of people seem to realize. Makes him a good auror.”

“Oi! Speak of the devil,” Seamus says, nodding towards the door.

She looks up and does a double take when she realizes that Ron is with Teddy. While she and Ron had come to an understanding yesterday about his behavior and crossing lines, she’s still surprised to see them together.

“Should I wave them over or would it be too awkward?” Seamus murmurs.

“Why would it be awkward?” she whispers back, arching a brow as she looks at him.

He snorts. “If I have to answer that question, you must find me pretty stupid. I’ve seen you come in here dozens of times for working lunches over the years with a variety of people. Never seen you looking at them the way you’ve been looking at a certain colleague in recent weeks. Might be wrong, has happened before, but I trust my instincts on this one.”

“Oh, well.” She rolls her eyes at his smug look and elbows his side. “Seems I’m even worse at keeping a secret then I ever realized.”

“Nah. Isn’t noticeable to just anyone. I know yeh well is all.” Seamus tugs on her hair before he whispers, “Saw you look at Ron like that enough times back at Hogwarts to recognize it, after all.”

She blushes and studies Hugo, hoping he hasn’t overheard their whispering, too. She glances at the bar, where Ron and Teddy have found a seat and are drinking pints. It might be rather awkward, considering, but she’s dying of curiosity about them being together, and she also wants to know how Teddy’s lunch with Greg went, so she nods. “Feel free to wave them over.”

“Oi! Ron, Lupin, get your bony arses over here,” Seamus calls out in a loud voice which is _not_ quietly waving by any means.

Ron and Teddy turn towards them. Teddy grins and his hair flashes turquoise when he sees her, while Ron just smiles. They leave the bar and walk over to her table. “Dad!” Hugo forgets about sugar packets and grins. “And Teddy.”

“Look at you two, being lazy and eating out in the middle of the week,” Ron scolds playfully as he ruffles Hugo’s hair and sits down. He looks at Hermione and tilts his head slightly.

She looks from him to Teddy and back again before she nods once. He seems to relax and his smile widens. “Well, look at you two, going for a pint in the middle of the week.”

“Wasn’t planned,” Teddy says as he moves an empty chair from the table behind her.

“No need for that, Lupin. You can sit here,” Seamus says with an innocent grin that is anything but as he stands and indicates the chair next to her. “My break’s nearly over anyway.”

“Mum brought me here so we can have treacle tart,” Hugo tells them. Ron gives Seamus a suspicious look as Teddy sits down.

“Treacle tart? That sounds good,” Teddy says. She bites her lip when she feels his hand on her thigh. He squeezes once in greeting before letting go. “I planned to stay in tonight and catch up on work, but Ron showed up at my flat and mumbled something about a drink, so I couldn’t resist.”

“That’s cause I’m irresistible,” Ron declares before he takes a drink of his pint. “And what did you do today to deserve treacle tart, Hugo?”

“Lots. I made sure Grandpa didn’t break his neck and helped Gran make eggs for breakfast and didn’t tease Lily when she got scared at the cinema even though the film wasn’t scary at all.”

“Uh, okay.” Ron looks at Hermione helplessly.

“Arthur took the children to see a Muggle film called The Wizard of Oz. Apparently Lily got scared, but Hugo didn’t tease her. Arthur decided to work on making a bicycle fly, and Hugo kept an eye on him so he wouldn’t get hurt. Oh, and he helped Molly make eggs,” she translates.

“Ah. I understand now.” Ron grins. “I’ll have to tease Harry about his daughter being scared of a film, however, because I’m not nearly as mature as Hugo.”

“Lily’s scared of so many things,” Hugo says, rolling his eyes. “But you can’t tease Uncle Harry cause that’s mean, Dad.”

“Yes, it’s very mean,” Hermione agrees.

“So, a flying bicycle?” Teddy asks. “That’s interesting.”

“Grandpa likes to try to make nearly everything fly. It’s fun, even if it hardly ever works,” Hugo says. “Gran worries more now than she used to ‘bout him getting hurt, so he doesn’t do anything too dangerous now, though I’m not supposed to tell her he’s not. He didn’t say I couldn’t tell anyone else, so I’m not breaking a promise.”

“We won’t tell her,” Teddy promises with a smile before he turns to Hermione. “How was your day? You were in meetings whenever I was actually in the office.”

“Busy but productive. I managed to get everything to a stopping point earlier than usual, which is always nice,” she says. “How was your day?”

“Good.” He ducks his head and bites his lip. “Have a lot to think about after lunch. But, yeah, it was good.”

“I’m glad. If you need an ear, I’ve got two,” she offers before she takes a drink of her lemonade.

“I know. And I’ll take you up on that later,” Teddy murmurs, moving his leg against hers lightly.

“Oi, I’ll be right back,” Ron says. “Need another pint before I can’t reach the bar. Anyone need anything?”

“I’ll take another,” Teddy says. “Thanks.”

Ron goes to the bar, and Hermione looks at Hugo. “I wonder if you’ll be hungry for treacle tart after you eat all your roast.”

Hugo grins. “I’ll save room for tart. It’s _so_ good. You should have some, too, Teddy.”

“You know what? I think I will.” Teddy leans over and moves one of the sugar packets. “That’s brilliant.”

“Yeah? I like patterns. See, I turned them this way cause the lines all go in this direction,” he explains. “Then I moved them like this cause, well, see. Like here.”

She watches him smile as he excitedly tells Teddy how he decided to arrange the packets and describes his design, loving the enthusiasm he shows for creating. Ron comes back and starts to listen, sharing a smile with her before he looks proudly at their son. She feels Teddy’s hand on her thigh, just resting there as she asks Hugo questions and occasionally smiles at her while they wait for their food.


	43. Perception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a surprise visitor for lunch

It’s been a long day, and it’s not even noon yet. The Warrington case has taken such a priority over everything else on her desk that Hermione finds herself behind on other cases. She has spent the morning catching up on her files, having meetings, and interviewing witnesses. The rest of her week looks like it will be the same, since she can’t neglect other cases just because she wants to ensure a firm verdict for Warrington. They’re at an impasse in that case right now, at least, since there seem to be a half dozen avenues being explored and nothing has been found yet.

That’s the most frustrating part of her job. When she had warned Teddy about needing patience and things taking too long, she hadn’t been lying. The worst part of the job is when someone manages to escape justice, especially the cases that she knows are guilty, which is probably one reason that she has dealt with her impatience as well as she can so that she doesn’t rush or make mistakes. She watches others lose trials that they might not have if they’d been more thorough or taken more time before moving forward, so she has learned from that. She hates to lose.

The toast that she had this morning wasn’t enough to get her through the day if the rumbling of her tummy is any indication. It’s fortunate that she wasn’t in a meeting with a client or witness when it started to growl. It was embarrassing enough to hear it when she was giving Caroline additions to her calendar for next week. It _is_ lunch time, but she still has so much to get done that she’s tempted to get something from the canteen and eat at her desk. Rose comes home on Saturday and the monthly brunch with Harry and Ron is at her house this month, so she doesn’t want to take any work home with her.

While she’s been looking forward to Rose coming home since she first put her on the Hogwarts Express in September, she’s now also slightly anxious. Ron started to date Mel a few months ago, while Rose was away at school, and she’s dating Teddy, which Rose and Hugo both need to be told about. Ron had written a letter to tell her about Mel, but Hermione couldn’t tell Rose about Teddy in that way. She understood that Ron wanted Rose to know before she possibly heard from someone else, of course. A letter just seemed impersonal to her, especially when she wanted to know Rose’s true reaction instead of simply a reading a reply that likely wouldn’t show much emotion at all.

Well, she wasn’t entirely certain that she wanted to know Rose’s true reaction, since it hadn’t been at all positive regarding Mel and that situation is infinitely better than her own. Rose has always liked Teddy and considers him as much a cousin as Al or James. Hugo does, too, but Hugo isn’t as unpredictable as Rose. She isn’t sure how Hugo will feel about it, but she doesn’t foresee a terribly negative reaction, though she could be wrong. Rose is an unknown, and that worries her.

A knock on her door disturbs her thoughts. She frowns at her file when she realizes that she’s been reading the same page for longer than necessary. While at work, she needs to focus because she doesn’t want a relationship to interfere with her performance. There’s a second knock, a little louder this time, and she realizes that she’s not yet greeted her visitor. Bollocks.

She looks up and blinks in surprise when she sees Luna Lovegood leaning against the door. Luna knocks again while studying the wood before she looks at over at Hermione and smiles widely. It‘s disconcerting, to say the least. When she realizes that Luna is still standing there waiting for her to speak, she says, “I thought that you were doing research in Machu Picchu until July.”

“Hello to you, too, Hermione. It’s nice to see you. Why, yes, I’d love to come in!” Luna enters the office and closes the door behind her before she walks over to Hermione’s desk. “I can hug you while you’re sitting, but it’s usually better if you stand.”

“Funny. It’s nice to see you, too, Luna.” Even if she has no idea why Luna’s in her office instead of exploring South American ruins. She stands up and returns Luna’s hug. “Is your father okay?”

“Daddy is lovely, though Parvati tells me that he still doesn’t understand what retirement means even after ten years.” She looks around Hermione’s office and immediately goes to the bookshelves to start poking around. She holds up a piece of carved wood and studies it. “This is new. It wasn’t here last time I visited.”

“You sent it to me for Christmas,” she reminds Luna. “You visited last summer, before I received it.”

Luna tilts her head as she obviously considers Hermione’s reply before she nods. “That’s right. I sent it from Ciudad Perdida. I thought it looked familiar. Has it brought you luck?”

“Perhaps. Did your excursion end early?” She knows that Luna said July in her last letter, though it’s never possible to plan anything around Luna’s schedule since it often changes, usually on a whim.

“Hmm?” Luna looks at her and lowers her voice as she leans towards Hermione. “The skoring gorlox are in mating season. It was rude to stay and invade their privacy.” She straightens up. “I also finished my research early, so here I am. You need lunch. Shall we?”

She has no idea what skoring gorlox are or if they even exist, but a visit from Luna is rare and appreciated. “Lunch would be nice. Let me finish with this file and then we can go. How long are you in town?”

“I’m not sure. A few days or a few weeks. It depends on what interests me next,” Luna says. “I’m thinking about going to Alaska to look for the crintson flower, but I was also invited to join an expedition into areas of magical China by Rolf Scamander, so that’s tempting, too.”

When she hears the name Rolf, she arches a brow and looks up from her file to notice Luna staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. “The same Rolf Scamander from New Zealand? And Kenya? And---”

“Is there another?” Luna interrupts curiously. “It’s such an unique name that I never imagined there would be two.”

“Funny.” Hermione stores the information away to discuss over lunch because she hasn’t missed the faint blush on Luna’s pale cheeks or the avoidance of her question, which is not Luna’s usual style. Blunt and pointed outweighs vague and avoiding most often.

Luna smiles dreamily before she opens Hermione’s door. “I’ll wait outside so you can finish your work. I want to ask Caroline if she’s having a girl or a boy.”

Before Hermione can reply, Luna is gone, and she’s left wondering when her assistant found out she was pregnant because that’s news to her. She frowns at the file and quickly finishes her notes as she listens to voices outside her office. She’s glad that Luna didn’t shut the door behind her or she’d not have heard anything. Caroline is denying Luna’s belief that she’s pregnant and sounds surprised at the suggestion. When she hears Teddy greet Luna, she feels a twisting in her tummy that has nothing to do with hunger. Well, not _that_ kind of hunger.

Once she’s finished, she puts the file in its place and grabs her handbag. Teddy is laughing at some story Luna is telling, and she hurries just a little bit more, not that she’s jealous or anything. When she leaves her office, she closes the door behind her and joins them around Caroline’s desk. Caroline looks shell-shocked and Teddy is smiling, which seems appropriate for a visit from Luna. Most people tend to be one or the other after conversing with her.

“Afternoon, Boss,” Teddy says casually even as he looks at her in a way that makes her feel foolish for being minutely jealous. He ducks his head and runs his fingers through his hair, possibly realizing that he’s staring in a way inappropriate for the office.

“Hello, Ted.” She pushes away memories of last night as she turns towards Caroline. “I’ll be out of the office for lunch. If anyone needs me, I’ll be back at one. I’m expecting an owl from Lawson regarding the Fortellini case, so just put it in my box when it arrives. It was supposed to be here this morning, so it’s already late, but I‘d think it will at least arrive by one.”

Caroline nods before she excuses herself to go to the ladies. Hermione looks at Luna and shakes her head. “What?” Luna asks.

“She and her husband have been trying to have a baby for the last three years. Nothing has worked, so hearing you asking what sex her baby is going to be has to be difficult,” she says quietly.

“Oh, well, they should be happy then. She’s pregnant,” Luna says simply. “I can tell.”

“Boss, why don’t you go on to lunch. I’ll hang around the office to make sure the Lawson owl gets taken care of,” Teddy says before she can snap at Luna for being insensitive. Even if she is somehow right in that uncanny and annoying way of hers, it’s still rude. “I’ll let Caroline go to lunch now and I’ll go after.”

She looks at him and nods. “Thank you, Ted. I’ll be back soon.” She turns to Luna and asks, “Finnigan’s?”

“Of course. Seamus would be insulted if I went anywhere else,” Luna says matter-of-factly. She takes Hermione’s arm and pulls her along out of the office. “You work too hard.”

“I hear that a lot.” She pushes the button for the lift and is relieved when it arrives promptly. It’s almost noon, so she’s glad to beat the crowd. With Luna, it’s better to have an empty lift than a crowded one since she never knows what might be said next.

“You hear it but do you listen? There’s a difference, you know. If you actually listened, you might evaluate your life and decide that you do work too much and then you’d stop.”

“It’s not that easy, Luna. Besides, you work hard, too. It’s been nearly a year since you were back for a visit, and I know you’re not just traveling for fun.”

Luna shrugs. “My work is fun, and it’s not the same. You have a job that’s draining and makes circles under your eyes. You look better than you did when I was here last time, but good sex doesn’t cure everything.” The doors to the lift open, and Luna steps into the Atrium before Hermione can say anything. Which is probably good because she’s only able to squeak at the moment.

When they get outside, she glances at Luna. “Who told you?” There’s now too many people who know for her to even think about threatening anyone, but she’s still annoyed that her private life is seemingly a source of gossip amongst friends.

“Ginny sent me a letter. She’s very upset, which is understandable, and she says that she can’t talk to Harry about it because he always takes your side.” Luna looks at her. “I don’t understand why there have to be sides, since it’s not a war, but Ginny is odd.”

“Ginny sent you a letter and you somehow managed to finish your project at the same time?” She arches a brow and purses her lips. “If you came back because of this-”

“I didn’t. I would have, though. Mating season of the skoring gorlox is very uncomfortable,” Luna confides. “Ginny doesn’t understand. I don’t know if she ever will. It _is_ unusual, after all. He’s much younger and practically family. Does it bother you?”

When Luna says that she doesn’t think Ginny will ever understand, she feels defeated. There are so many things to worry about in regards to having a relationship with Teddy, but losing a close friend hurts. It’s funny, in a way, since she’s been scared of exactly that all along yet the people who know have been surprisingly accepting and more concerned about her happiness than anything else. Well, Harry and Andromeda are worried about Teddy more than her, but it’s similar.

“I don‘t disapprove,” Luna says suddenly. “But it’s also not my place to give approval. You’re my friend, and it’s your life regardless of what I think or how I feel. If you enter into this needing approval from everyone before you’ll be happy, you’ll never be happy, Hermione. I know that you like to say you don’t care what people think, but you always have, at least a little.”

Luna’s analysis is unnerving. It’s too close to the truth for comfort, and Hermione’s suddenly glad that she’s here. “I’m trying,” she says honestly. “I haven’t told the children yet, and I’m scared about their reactions. I enjoy being with him, Luna. He makes me happy in a way that I’ve not been in years.”

“He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” Luna smiles. “That’s a wonderful feeling, when you find it. It’s hard to let it go, even if you’re scared. How long has it been going on?“

“About a month. We went out for dinner and, well, things continued from there.” She reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I lost him a week ago, and it hurt so much. Not like when Ron and I finally ended things, but maybe like when I first realized we had drifted apart.”

“That isn’t a long time.” Luna looks surprised as she stops walking and stares at her. “It was years before you even started to date Ron.”

“I remember.”

“This isn’t like you at all. No wonder you’re confused and scared. I’m proud of you.” Luna smiles and gives her a big hug before stepping back. “I never thought I’d see the day when you did something daring and, well, selfish.”

“It is selfish,” she murmurs. “Harry and Ron don’t really approve, even if they’re accepting it as well as they can, and Ginny has shut me out completely. The children risk losing a favorite cousin if Teddy and I don’t work out, and I still couldn’t let him go.”

“Are you ready to lose people who don’t understand or can’t accept it? People won’t be kind, Hermione. They rarely are when things aren’t predictable and normal. The people who really love you, though, will accept it. Like Harry and Ron. And others won’t care at all, but there will be those who can’t ever understand and won’t even try,” Luna says bluntly.

“No, I’m not ready, but there’s not much other choice. I can’t sacrifice my happiness to make people feel more comfortable and to keep friends who obviously aren’t really good ones if they can’t at least tolerate my relationship.”

Luna studies her then smiles. “You said ‘if’ and not ‘when’. You care about him, more than you want to believe right now. Ginny does love you, Hermione. It’s hard for her, and I hope you’re willing to give her time before cutting her out of your life completely.”

“Honestly? Rose and Hugo are my only concern right now. Rose comes home from school this weekend, and I’m planning to tell them after that, so all my anxiety is focused there for the moment. After I get through that, whatever happens, then I’ll worry about friends and family who don’t know yet.”

“What if they won’t accept him?”

Hermione looks at Luna, somehow not surprised that she’s asked the question that she’s not even wanted to think about. “I-” She hesitates and sighs. “I don’t know.”

Luna hooks her arm around Hermione’s before she starts walking again. “We don’t always have the answers,” she says simply. “You’ll owl me after, when they don’t take it well. I’ve brought them gifts and have stories to tell.”

“You said ‘when’, not ‘if’,” she points out softly.

“So I did.” Luna glances at her and squeezes her arm. “You’re working too hard, but I’m glad that you’re starting to live again, outside of work and family. I was worried for a while after Ron. Do you think that Seamus will give me ice cream before my meal? I’m craving something sweet, but he’s so silly about pudding being afters.”

The subject has been changed, and Hermione’s relieved. She has enough on her mind to think about without adding even more. She needs to see Teddy, needs at least a hug to help her get through the rest of the day, but she’ll have to wait for that. Right now, they’ve just arrived at Finnigan’s, and she does really want to catch up with Luna beyond talking about her current relationship drama. Speaking of relationships. She smiles as she looks at Luna. “So, China with the dashing and sexy Rolf, hmm?”


	44. Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy have a meeting

Lunch with Luna passes quickly. Their table is full throughout the meal with various friends dropping by to say hello and catch up. Everyone knows that Luna could be gone tomorrow if she decides on a new project to pursue, so they take advantage of her presence while she’s around. Hermione doesn’t mind because it’s less time that she has to sit and think about everything. 

Teddy would likely hex her if he knew that she is still spending so much time analyzing their relationship. It’s not as if she’s doing it intentionally; it’s just who she is and she can’t change that nor would she. While she has made the choice to see where things go with Teddy, that doesn’t mean she’s just going to prance around without a worry in the world. It is nice that they talked and decided together, so they know how they feel about things.

When she realizes that it’s nearly one, she leaves Luna at Finnigan’s with friends and takes the Floo back to the Ministry. On her way to her office, she stops by the lab to speak with Corner about an older case that’s been set for trial starting next week. He’s the best lab tech that the Aurors have, so the best time to catch him is when he’s coming in first thing in the morning or right after lunch. They talk about the case briefly and make arrangements for his testimony before she continues on to her office.

Caroline is back at her desk working on files when Hermione enters the outer office. She glances past Caroline to see that Teddy isn’t at his desk. Instead of going straight to her office, she lingers for a moment. “Did you have a pleasant lunch, Caroline?”

“I did, thank you.” Caroline smiles, but it seems that she’s still upset about Luna’s proclamation. Hermione has no idea what to say about that to offer comfort, so she decides the best thing to do is to say nothing. “Ted put the owl from Lawson in your box before he went to lunch. Potter has scheduled a meeting tomorrow morning to review the Warrington case. I’ve already put it on your calendar.”

“Thank you. What time is the meeting?”

“Nine. You had a free block of time, so there was no need to reschedule.”

She nods. “Alright. Will you add a note for Tuesday at 10 regarding the Benson trial? Corner will be testifying during that time. Also, I need the file from Collins on the sexual harassment case when you get a chance.”

She went into her office and left the door partially open for Caroline. After she put away her bag, she sat down and added Harry’s meeting and Corner’s testimony to her private calendar. She knows that Caroline will remind her, of course, but she likes having information within reach anyway. When she looks at her schedule for next week, she makes a face. It’s going to be another busy week, which means she really needs to focus on having a relaxing weekend.

“Does it look that bad?”

“Probably worse,” she mutters before she looks up to see Teddy leaning against her door. “Back from lunch already?”

“I just went down to the canteen to grab a sandwich. Caroline says you need this?” He held up a file. “I also wanted to speak with you, if you have a few minutes, Boss.”

“I do need that. Thanks.” When he mentions needing a few minutes to talk, she glances at her desk. “I can give you a few, but not much more than that.”

He enters the office and closes the door behind him. “It’s about work,” he specifies as he walks to her desk and puts the file in front of her. After he sits down, he fidgets and runs his fingers through his hair, which has slowly turned dark purple. “I’ve been thinking about everything we talked about last night and my meeting with Goyle yesterday. What would I need to do if I decide to terminate my internship and transfer to Protective Services?”

The question doesn’t surprise her. They had a long talk last night after Hugo went to bed about everything he learned from Greg. It was obvious then that Teddy was interested, but she didn’t expect him to want to discuss it officially already. After taking a moment to think about his question, she slides her shoes off and leans back in her chair. 

“There’s paperwork to complete and an exit interview regarding why you chose to end an internship. Administrative likes to keep up with those cases to make sure that no department is taking advantage of interns or making circumstances unbearable,” she explains. “Protective Services will have paperwork for you to complete, and there’ll likely be an interview process that you have to follow. Even if a position has already been offered verbally, they’ll have to go through the proper procedures so that everything is official.”

“Wow.” He shakes his head and smiles crookedly. “I expected a lot more hoops to jump through and restrictions. It took me bloody ages to get accepted into the internship program, you know?”

“You’ve already jumped through most of those hoops during that process. It’s one of the most stringent application programs at the Ministry, comparable to Auror Training. There might be departmental specifics that Greg can tell you about, but I doubt it’s anything major compared to what you’ve already gone through.”

Teddy nods and fidgets more. “I haven’t decided completely. I think it’d be the best choice for me, but it’s a big change. My really smart and beautiful girlfriend says that I shouldn’t decide impulsively, so I’m trying to think about it and all. I just wanted to know the policy.”

She arches a brow. “ _Girl_ friend? Well, it’s fortunate that you listen to her, at least.”

“Oh, I do. And maybe girl isn’t appropriate, but it sounds better than womanfriend. You know that the proverbial ’they’ don’t have adequate titles for mature partners in a relationship.”

They’re coming close to crossing a line, so she knows it’s time to pull back. “Once you make a decision, just let me know and I can get you the necessary paperwork.” It’ll be difficult to lose him because he’s good at his job, but, selfishly, it’ll be easier for them if they don’t work together so closely. Besides, she wants him to do something that he loves as much as she loves law, and she knows that this isn’t it.

“Right. I will, Boss,” he says as he stands up, obviously understanding her silent message. There are so many lines that it’s difficult to keep track and to know all the boundaries. She has trouble with it, so she imagines it must be even worse for him. He catches her staring and leans closer. “I really want to word-I-can’t-say-at-work you right now, just so you know.”

“Ditto,” she tells him before she ducks her head to hide a smile. When she glances back up, he’s grinning and his hair is burnt orange as he turns away. He leaves the office and closes the door behind him. She stares at the closed door for a moment before she sighs and goes back to work.


	45. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy spend time together

Hugo is exhausted. He’s barely keeping his eyes open, but he refuses to go to bed because it’s not even ten o’clock. Hermione doesn’t really understand why it’s so important to wait until after ten when he’s obviously tired, but he insists on staying awake until his proper bedtime. However, she’s not sure if he’ll make it despite his best intentions.

They have spent the evening cleaning the house. It isn’t exactly how she enjoys spending a Friday night, but she felt a need to make sure everything is in order. The house never really gets that dirty since she’s somewhat obsessive about keeping things in order and clean. This is different, though, because Rose is coming home tomorrow, and she wants the house to look brilliant for Rose. She and Hugo have dusted, mopped, hoovered, cleaned windows, straightened bookshelves, and made sure that all of Rose’s favorite foods are stocked in the pantry. While Hugo was cleaning his room, she had given Rose’s room a good dusting and made sure it was habitable after months without use.

“Rose is gonna be cranky tomorrow.”

She looks over at Hugo and arches a brow. “Why do you think that? She seems excited about coming home.”

“She has to get up _so_ early on a Saturday to catch the train. Al told me ‘bout it in his last letter. She’s always cranky when she has to get up early.”

“Well, maybe it’s not as early as Al thinks,” she says thoughtfully. She’s pleased to hear Hugo reciting something from one of the letters he receives. If his reading continues to improve, he should be alright for his classes, so that’ll be one less thing for her to worry about when he starts school in September.

“Rose is always cranky,” Hugo says before he yawns. “Can’t wait to show her my new room, though, and tell her about Dil and his letters and all those people I met with Dad and Mel. She’s gonna be so jealous.”

“She isn’t always cranky, and that’s not a very nice thing to say about your sister.” She decides that it’s not worth pointing out that inducing jealousy in a sibling isn’t nice, either, because she’s seen enough sibling relationships to know that that just seems to be natural for most. She puts down the rag that she’s using to clean the table and walks over to Hugo. “You’re yawning more than you’re talking, so I think that’s a hint that it’s time for bed.”

“But Muuum. It’s not ten yet,” Hugo whinges. The effect is ruined when he yawns right in the middle. He blinks sleepy eyes up at her, but she’s not giving in to the puppy dog eyes. He seems to sense her firmness because he sighs loudly before he stands up. “ _Fine_. I’ll go to bed.”

“Wait. What are you forgetting?”

He smiles sheepishly before he gives her a big hug and sloppy kiss to the cheek. “Night, Mum. What time will Dad be here tomorrow?”

“He’s picking us up after an early breakfast,” she tells him before she kisses his cheek and sends him up to bed. He’s more excited than she is at driving to London tomorrow. While Ron isn’t necessarily a bad driver, she’s just spoiled by the ease of magical travel. Besides, spending twelve hours on the motorway for the round trip isn’t at all pleasant. Still, she knows that Ron is just as excited about Rose coming home as she and Hugo are, so she agreed to his suggestion to give him some time with Rose this weekend.

After she finishes cleaning the table, she washes up the dinner dishes and puts them away. The evening of housework might not have been a necessity, but she’s glad that the night went by so quickly. There hasn’t really been any time since she got home with Hugo to dwell on Rose coming home and how her daughter might have changed after so many months at school or about her relationship with Teddy and how she plans to tell the children about it soon.

The house is clean. It’s possibly spotless, but she doesn’t want to think that because then she’d likely find dust somewhere and jinx it. She glances at the clock and notes that half an hour has passed since Hugo went upstairs to bed. She hadn’t realized she had that much left to do, but at least it’s all done now. She thinks that she might take a shower tonight instead of the morning because she’s worked up a sweat while doing chores. Of course, knowing her, she’ll still take a shower tomorrow morning if only out of habit.

As she walks past Hugo’s room, she quietly opens the door and looks in on him. He’s dead to the world, already snoring, and she smiles as she creeps in and puts his blanket around him. She watches him sleep for a few minutes and tries not to count the days that she has left to do these little things before he’s off at school. If her relationship with Teddy is still going on then, she fears that she might become needy and cling too much because the thought of being completely alone is rather terrifying.

With a shake of her head, she leaves Hugo’s room and shuts the door behind her. She gets her sleeping clothes and a clean pair of knickers when she enters her room then goes to take a shower. It’s tempting to take a long, relaxing bath, but she has little doubt that doing so will just make her think about Teddy bathing her, which will make her tense and frustrated in ways that she’d have to take care of herself. It’s funny how annoying it is to masturbate alone while in the early phases of a relationship. Or, at least, she finds it annoying, though she knows that she‘s never exactly been an example of ‘normal woman‘, so perhaps she‘s just odd.

The shower is nice. She no longer smells like bleach and her body feels clean, which are two definite positives. Foolishly, she washed her hair, so now it’s wet and she either has to take the time to perform drying charms or stay awake longer until it can dry naturally. She prefers the latter, but the former is usually necessary during a work week. When she realizes that she’s analyzing the best way to dry her hair, she rolls her eyes at herself. While thinking about random topics in-depth does prevent her mind from going back to the main subjects of anxiety in recent weeks, it also makes her wonder if she’s not mental, as Ron often claims.

When she leaves the bathroom and steps into her bedroom, she pauses and glances at her door. She thought she heard something. Hugo sometimes wakes up and goes to get something to drink downstairs, but he was sleeping deeply, so it wasn’t him. There’s only silence now. She moves her towel over her hair to get the excess water and considers whether she should go check the house, just in case. The wards are strong, so the chances of anyone gaining entry that doesn’t already have permission are extremely slim, but she still worries when it comes to the safety of her children.

Before she can make a decision, she hears a noise again. It isn’t coming from the corridor, though. She turns to look at her windows and frowns. If someone had sent an owl this late, it was either due to an emergency or the bird got delayed. She’s relieved that she isn’t hearing things, but there’s concern about late night messages. When she pulls the drapes back to open the window, she stumbles backwards and falls on her bum when something startles her.

Her towel falls on the floor and her hair surrounds her face as she looks up at the window and glares. Teddy looks scared for a moment, which he bloody well should be for surprising her. She stands up and opens the window. “What are you doing here?” She blinks and looks down when she remembers that she’s on the first floor. He’s on a broom. “You’re on a broom.” Well, that sounds intelligent.

Teddy’s hair is bright red as he smiles sheepishly. “I’m here to see you. And, uh, yeah, it’s a broom. So that I could be here. To see you.”

“You don’t like to fly.”

“I don’t hate flying. I just don’t do it very often. Besides, this is more like hovering. Which I’ve been doing for about twenty minutes, so my arse is starting to feel numb. Can I come in?”

“Why are you hovering outside my window?”

“Hermione, this isn’t very comfortable at all, so why don’t you let me in then you can interrogate me. Promise.”

She doesn’t approve of his tone, but she opens the window more fully and steps back. “Alright. Come in, but be quiet. Hugo’s asleep, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Teddy flies the broom closer to the window and then climbs through. He hits his head on the top of the window pane, cursing under his breath as he tries to get to his feet. “I know, language,” he mutters as he rubs the top of his head and glares at her window.

“If you’d simply used the door like a normal person, you wouldn’t be giving my window a deadly look right now.”

“Point.” He rolls his eyes and reaches for the broom, bringing it inside before he closes the window. Now that he’s inside, she looks at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. While she is happy to see him, probably more than she cares to admit at the moment, she isn’t sure why he’s there. He looks at her and blinks. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

“I’m getting ready for bed and just got out of the shower. Now, stop ogling my breasts and tell my why you were flying outside my window.”

“Wasn’t ogling. Much.” His hair fades from red to brown to turquoise as he smiles at her. “Told you already. I wanted to see you. The flying was inspired by my romantic, sensitive side. Plus, I didn’t want to risk being hexed if I used the front door and woke Hugo up.”

“Romantic, sensitive side?” she repeats slowly. “You somehow associate romantic with flying?”

“Stop analyzing and just kiss me.” He reaches for her, but she deliberately moves back while trying not to smile.

“I like to analyze, Ted. Besides, you’re old enough to know that it’s polite to ask and rude to demand.” She picks up her wand and casts muffling charms so that she doesn’t have to worry about talking too loud. Of course, hearing Teddy whisper arouses her for some reason she can’t explain.

“You’re always prepared,” he murmurs before he pounces. She doesn’t have time to move before his arms are around her and his lips are pressed against hers. She reaches up and moves her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens. When he pulls back, he touches her face. “I had to see you. The thought of going an entire weekend without seeing you just made me feel sick.”

“It’s just a weekend,” she says softly. “With Rose coming home tomorrow, we can’t take the chance. It’s too dangerous, even with charms on the room.”

“I know. You’ve told me a dozen times, at least. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Hermione. I just-I like spending time with you, so I wanted to take advantage of tonight. And you’ll tell them, right? About us? Do you want me there when you do?”

“No. I don’t think it’s a good idea if you’re there when I tell them, and I _will_ tell them. There are already too many people who know, so I need to be honest with them. But, Ted, you won’t be able to stay over that often even after they know, especially if they don’t react well. I don’t want to make this harder on them than it has to be.”

He tightens his grip on her and stares at her intently. “It feels like I have to say this a lot lately but I know. We’ve talked about this before. Except you never tell me what happens if they don’t react well. I know we’ve only been together for like five weeks, but I don’t want to lose you.”

“We’ll deal with their reactions when it’s time.” She can’t make him promises that she might not be able to keep, no matter how tempting it is to say that he won’t lose her. She doesn’t want to lose him, either, but her children are her priority. She’s been clear about that from the start. She can’t tell him what she’ll do if Hugo and Rose don’t take the news well because she honestly doesn’t know. She doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Hermione, that’s not an answ-” He doesn’t finish because she kisses him. He’s right. This is the last chance they’ll have to be together at night once Rose is home, until Ron has the kids. That might only be a week, but it feels like ages when she’s used to sleeping with Teddy several nights a week now. She‘ll miss the sleeping as much as the sex, if not more in some ways.

It’s probably not fair to distract him like this, not when she’s the one who suggested communication and talking about their relationship so that things were in the open. Right now, though, it seems more fair to do that than to spend the last few hours they have for days talking, especially about something she isn’t ready to think about. She feels his hands on her bum, squeezing gently as he pulls her closer, and she knows that her distraction has worked. Not that she really thought it wouldn’t. Men are usually predictable creatures when it comes to sex.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she tells him as she pulls back from the kiss. She smiles as she pushes his t-shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. There’s an impulse to pick it up, but she resists and is rather proud of herself. After his shirt is off, she kisses his collarbone and moves her hands to the buttons on his denims. He grips her wrists and pulls her hands away before she can unfasten them. Looking up at him, she sees a lock of green hair fall across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“My turn.” His wicked smile makes her knees weak, and she wonders when he became so confident. There are still moments when he’s not, when he’s shy or hesitant during sex, but they’re rare compared to the early days of their relationship. He’s becoming more daring, too, which she thinks is because he trusts her enough that he can experiment.

Instead of pulling her t-shirt off, he kneels in front of her and slides her shorts down. She steps out of them and notices her wet towel still lying there when she steps on the edge. Teddy touches her leg, but she can’t stop staring at the towel. With a slight grimace, she leans down and picks it up. “Sorry. I can’t just leave it there.” She turns and hurries into the bathroom, where she hangs the towel to dry.

When she returns to the room, the clothes are off the floor and Teddy’s not wearing his jeans. She takes a moment to enjoy the view of him standing there bathed in candlelight wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxers. He shifts and says, “Do you plan to just stand there and stare all night or are you going to come touch me?”

“Take off the shorts,” she says as she leans against the doorway.

“We’re not doing this your way tonight, Hermione. It’s my turn,” he reminds her as he starts walking towards her. No, not walking. Prowling might be a more appropriate term. Bloody hell, he’s sexy. He stops before he reaches her and holds out his hand. “Well?”

It isn’t easy to just give in and let him have his turn. She likes being in control, probably more than is appropriate, but she’s also curious. It isn’t often that Teddy is so demanding. The few times he has been have been enjoyable, so she isn’t concerned. If anything, she’s aroused. She makes a decision and steps forward, putting her hand in his.

“Oh, good. Sulking would have ruined my attempts at sexy seduction.” He smiles as kneels in front of her once again. “I know that you have to get up early tomorrow, so we don’t have all night, but I want this to be good.”

“It’s always good with you,” she says simply. Even when it hasn’t been perfect, it’s been good, so she’s not lying.

He looks up at her as he moves his hands along her legs, slowly going higher and higher until they’re beneath the hem of her shirt. It’s tempting to reach down and pull her shirt off because she feels overdressed when he’s wearing nothing but boxers, but there’s something thrilling about it, too. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her knickers and slowly drags them down. It’s so slow that she is starting to feel very impatient.

Finally, he has her knickers around her ankles. She shifts as she raises one foot then the other so that he can remove them completely. It’s strange to be standing in front of him wearing just a t-shirt. His cock is pressed against the front of his boxers, and she licks her lips as she stares down at him. He groans and rests his forehead against her belly. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to fuck you right now.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she says, not surprised that her voice is low and husky. He’s drawing shapes on her thighs and hasn’t moved his head away from her belly yet. She reaches down to brush her fingers through his green hair and gasps when his fingers glide across the curve of her bum.

“I can smell you. So aroused and I’ve barely started.” His words are muffled by her shirt, but she can understand him perfectly. She feels a wave of heat spread over her as his fingers get more adventurous. She’s so focused on his hands that she’s momentarily surprised when she feels something wet on her upper thigh.

“Teddy,” she moans softly, blinking down at him as he moves her shirt up with his head. He doesn’t stop licking his way higher. If he keeps going, she might not be able to keep standing without support. His hands grip her bum and squeeze as he drags his tongue over her and hums.

“Taste good. So good.” She can feel the words as he speaks, soft breaths of air against her wetness. She reaches down and grips his hair as he starts to lick her, using his tongue and nose to drive her wild. When he flicks his tongue against her clit, she shudders and pulls on his hair. She’s going to fall. She just knows it. She can feel her knees getting weak, and she’s shaking as he keeps sucking and licking.

His arms are around her, bracing her, but she still feels lightheaded and weak. She looks at the ceiling and whines as she comes, reaching up with her free hand to grip her breast through her t-shirt. He keeps licking, tightening his grip on her bum as he nuzzles her through her orgasm. When she finally stops trembling, he kisses her belly, rubbing his wet lips against her sweaty skin.

“Teddy, that was-” She can’t really finish because she’s breathing hard and can’t think of the right word anyway. Fantastic and amazing aren’t strong enough.

“Not over yet. And it’s Ted,” he says hoarsely before he pulls her down. He sits back on his heels and moves one hand from her bum so that he can push his boxers down. She straddles him and grips his hard cock so that she can slide down on him. It’s an awkward position, and she’s not sure if he’s comfortable, but it feels wonderful to have him inside her, so she doesn’t ask.

She rides him, gripping his shoulder as she moves up and down. He pulls her shirt up, bunching it under her arms, and sucks her nipples while she moves. It doesn’t take him long before he tenses and comes. He grunts and pulls her down hard, shuddering beneath her. She strokes his hair and kisses his neck while squeezing him until he’s spent. Finally, she eases up and lets him slip out of her.

“I think my legs are asleep.” Teddy pulls her back against him and kisses the spot on her neck that makes her toes curl. “Should probably get up, but I don’t want to let you go.”

“We should get up,” she agrees. She’s sore from cleaning and their activities have made her back ache more. “You have to let me go so we can clean up, but you can stay over, if you’d like. You just have to leave-”

“Before Hugo’s awake. Yeah, I know the rules.” He kisses her neck again before he sighs. “Alright, we can get up, but no laughing if my legs are too numb to stand properly.”

She smiles at him. “No laughing. Got it.” Before she stands, she leans down and kisses him slowly. When she pulls back, she caresses his cheek. “I’m glad you came over.”

“Even with the misguided romantic broom thing?” He smiles crookedly and brushes his fingers through her damp hair.

“Hmm.” She pretends to consider it before she nods and smiles. “Even with the romantic nonsense.”


	46. Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose comes home

The drive to King’s Cross takes six and a half hours. It would have been less, but there's an accident on the motorway and Ron has to stop for petrol, which led to Hugo browsing the sweets in the shop and asking for everything that took his fancy. He's sneaky enough to ask under the guise of getting something for Rose, but Hermione hasn’t been fooled. Unfortunately for Hugo’s teeth, Ron _has_ been, so they return to the car with a sack full of chocolate and sugary sweets that she will have to attempt to confiscate before Hugo ends up with cavities.

London is crowded when they arrive, but Ron manages to deal with the traffic relatively well. He only curses a few times, and there are no near misses when it comes to accidents, which is an improvement from when they had dropped Rose off back in September. Finding parking isn’t easy, but they finally find a space at King’s Cross with a little time to spare.

After listening to Ron and Hugo chatter about Quidditch for half of the drive, Hermione’s relieved to enter the noisy train station. Hearing a variety of different languages and chatter from strangers is better than sitting through analysis of Quidditch matches that don’t interest her. It’s bad enough that Rose is a Quidditch fan, though, without Hugo also falling into that trap. She’s glad the children have something to share with Ron, of course, but it likely means that Hugo will also want to try out for a school team when he’s older, which could be an issue in sibling relations if he and Rose end up competing on different teams.

“Mum, slow down,” Hugo says from behind her.

She glances back and notices that Hugo and Ron are further behind than she would have thought. “Speed up,” she replies even as she slows her steps. She’s eager to see Rose, but the train won’t arrive for another ten minutes, give or take, so she knows there’s no reason to hurry. Still, she wants to make sure that she’s there when Rose gets off the train.

“I’d think you were doing that power walking nonsense but you weren’t shaking your arse the right way.” Ron scoops up Hugo from behind and carries him as they reach her more quickly.

“Daaaad, you’re embarrassing me,” Hugo mutters as he wiggles and tries to get down.

“Language, Ronald.” She purses her lips and considers whether she wants to tell him to let Hugo go. She decides that it’s between them, though, and continues walking.

“Language, Ronald,” Ron imitates in a snooty sounding tone. “It’s a bunch of strangers, Hermione. I don’t really care if they hear me say the word arse.”

“Oi! What’s this I hear? My baby brother cursing for all the world to hear?” George cries out in dismay, being far louder than is necessary as he draws attention to them. Angelina is behind him shaking her head, and she gives Hermione an apologetic look before she mouths ‘brothers’, as if that explains it all. Which it does.

Ron puts Hugo back down and glares at George. “Yeah, well, you taught me the words.”

“Hello everyone,” Angelina interrupts before George can say anything. “Hugo, you’re looking even more handsome than the last time I saw you.”

Hugo makes a face. “Don’t wanna look handsome. That’s stupid.” Hermione arches a brow and gives him a look, which he notices immediately. “Uh, I mean, thank you, Aunt Angelina.”

George makes a tsking noise as he leans down to whisper, “It‘s a sad day when a nephew of mine is so polite when faced with an overbearing auntie. You’re such a bad influence.”

“Would you like for me to make sure that Angelina hears your charming description of her?” she whispers back before she elbows him in the ribs and smiles sweetly.

“None of that. Whispering between you two usually means plots and schemes,” Ron says as he looks at them suspiciously.

“We were just talking about what a wonderful man you are, baby brother,” George says innocently as he flutters his eyelashes. “Now, are we going to stand here blocking traffic or are we going to fetch our children? Of course, I’m not sure if I even want the kids to come home. Mary says that Fred and Gideon are fighting after some prank Fred and Fabian pulled on a girl that Gideon fancies. It’s all so dramatic that I can’t believe my children are part of it.”

“I can’t believe that Gideon is already fancying girls,” Angelina mutters. “I was hoping we’d have another year or two, at least, before we had to deal with that.”

Ron snorts. “I can’t believe that it’s Gideon with the first crush. I’d have thought Mary would fall first.”

Hugo is listening attentively, which means everything said will likely be told to his cousins as soon as possible. She glances at the clock and then reaches for Hugo’s hand. “While they stand around talking about teenage drama, we’ll go wait for your sister.”

“Hey, now. None of that. Was my idea to go get them before it was yours,” George calls out. Angelina just laughs and joins Hermione and Hugo.

“There are times when I don’t know how I can be married to that man,” she confides to Hermione. She smiles. “The rest of the time, though, I don’t know how I’d ever live without him, so I guess it’s a good balance.”

“Does Gideon _really_ have a girlfriend?” Hugo asks, making a face that gives his opinion on the idea of his cousin dating. If only he’d keep feeling that way until he was older. Fifty would be good. That’s when she thinks that she’ll be ready for Rose to start dating, though Ron argues that seventy-five is a good age.

“I don’t know,” Angelina says with a shrug. “He’s only thirteen, so I doubt it. George just likes to overreact.”

“I do not,” George denies as he and Ron catch up with them. “Hugo, don’t listen to your aunt. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” 

“Grown-ups are so weird,” Hugo murmurs as Angelina slaps the back of George’s head lightly.

When they reach the entrance to Platform 9 ¾, she takes a moment to prepare herself for what awaits her on the other side. She’s already developing a slight headache after being trapped in a car for so many hours and the antics of George and Ron. It will now get worse because, on the other side, there’ll be even more Weasleys waiting for children, along with old friends who enjoy every mini-reunion they have, whether it’s at Finnigan’s or King’s Cross.

“Mum, are you okay?” Hugo looks up at her, and she notices that he seems to be worried. Bloody hell. She hadn’t meant for her deep breath to be seen.

“I’m fine. You know how I get after a long car ride,” she tells him. It’s the truth, but not the whole truth because she doesn’t want to tell him that it can be overwhelming sometimes when most of the family is around. This is also the first time that she’ll be around them since she’s started dating Teddy and, despite the fact that few of them are even aware of the fact, she feels awkward. Ginny knows and isn’t speaking to her, which will likely be noticed. George knows but doesn’t really care. And seeing Bill and Fleur will be very uncomfortable if only for the fact that she’s dating their daughter’s ex-boyfriend.

Hugo seems to accept her answer and walks through the barrier with George and Angelina. “Here. It’s water,” Ron says as he hands her a cold bottle. He puts his hand on the small of her back and gently nudges her. “They won’t know just from looking at you, and Ginny’s not going to say anything.”

“I hate when you do that,” she murmurs, opening the bottle and taking a drink before she glances at him. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Nah. I just know you too well.” He grins. “I’ve not started studying mind reading or anything, so no worries there.” His smile fades as he glances at the stone column before them. “If you’re this nervous without any of them even knowing about _him_ , how are you ever going to be okay with all of them knowing?”

Before she can answer, he kisses her cheek and then steps through the barrier. Bugger. She really does hate when he does that, especially when he manages to surprise her with his insight. This isn’t about Teddy so much as it’s about her irrational insecurities when it comes to her friends and family. While several have been so accepting it still doesn’t seem possible, there are others that she knows will react like Ginny or even worse.

Ron’s right, though. None of them will know. It’s not as if she’s wearing a sign that says ‘I’m dating a sexy twenty year old’, after all. Still, she’s apprehensive about Rose coming home, for more reasons than just seeing how different her daughter is after a year at school, and the anxiety over her relationship with Teddy just adds to her emotional disparity at the moment. With a shake of her head, she steps through the barrier and joins her family to wait.

“Thought we’d lost you,” George says as she approaches them. “Alright?”

“Fine. I think I might have got car sick. Water helps.” She holds up the bottle that Ron gave her before she takes another drink.

The platform is crowded. It almost feels surreal to be here waiting for her child when it was only yesterday that she, herself, was arriving on the train after her first year at school. That day can’t have been over twenty years ago. In a few weeks, she’ll be back here putting Rose and Hugo on the train before returning to her quiet house. The children have grown up so fast, and she’s torn between proud of them and wishing that they’d never grow up.

She returns a greeting from Padma and Percy, who have joined the waiting group. Within moments, there is teasing about Tim being in Slytherin, but Percy is able to turn things back on Ron since Rose was sorted into Ravenclaw this year. Two more voices join the group, and she gives Bill and Fleur a friendly smile before she focuses on the clock nearby.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Harry whispers before he gives her a hug from behind. She leans against him briefly before she sighs. He kisses the top of her head and lets go. “Do you think Al is going to suddenly want to paint his room yellow? I’ve been having nightmares about everything turning yellow. Does that make me a bad father?”

“Yellow?” She looks at Harry and starts to laugh. It’s a good feeling, and it helps ease some of the tension that she feels right now. Harry looks smug for a fleeting moment before he does his best to look concerned. “I don’t think it does. You can be proud of him regardless of his House without wanting everything yellow.” She shakes her head. “Thanks.”

“For what?” He winks at her before he turns to greet George. She notices Ginny standing beside Fleur and nods in greeting. Ginny returns the nod quickly then starts talking to Lily.

It seems that a lot of parents waited until the last minute to show up. A few minutes before the train is due, the platform is suddenly even more crowded than before. There are people everywhere, talking and waiting, and she speaks to a few friends here and there as they pass by her. Finally, the train arrives, and she has to fight the impulse to do a little dance because it means that Rose is home.

Children swarm off the train, running to parents and giving out hugs or acting as if they’re too old to do that sort of thing, depending on their age. She scans the crowd for dark auburn curls, but she still hasn’t seen Rose. Ron picks up Hugo and holds him above everyone’s head so he can look for his sister, and he squirms when he spots her. “I see her! Rose! We‘re here! Hurry uuuup!”

Hermione focuses in the direction where Hugo’s shouting and sees Rose walking along with two boys, one blond and one with black hair. Scorpius Malfoy and Daniel Corner, if she had to guess. Rose is making faces and glaring at the blond, while the other boy laughs. She looks older, Hermione decides, which is silly since she was just home for Easter hols a couple of months ago. When Rose reaches out to slap Scorpius on the arm, Ron snorts.

“Take that, Malfoy,” he mutters crossly.

“Ronald,” she warns quietly, not wanting to have to hex her ex-husband for behaving like a child with a grudge. She sees Michael step up to the dark-haired boy, which confirms that he’s Daniel, and Rose speaks with him briefly before continuing along the platform towards them. She sees her nieces and nephews joining the group and hugging their parents, but she looks back towards Rose when she spots Victoire giving Fleur a kiss on the cheek.

Hugo takes off running towards Rose when she gets closer and tackles her hard enough to nearly knock her off her feet. Rose stumbles back into Scorpius and tries to glare at Hugo but she ends up smiling. Hermione’s relieved that there won’t be any bickering, yet at least, and walks towards them.

“Hugo, let your sister breathe,” she says when Hugo keeps hugging Rose and doesn’t let go. Rose looks up and smiles at her.

“Mum!” Rose pushes Hugo away and walks over to her, hugging her tighter than she has in years. Hermione’s pleasantly surprised since she’s been worried that Rose was going to be too old for hugs soon. She returns the hug and kisses Rose’s cheek before she lets go.

“You’ll have to forgive your brother. He’s missed you.”

“I have not,” Hugo denies before he looks at a bemused Scorpius. “Who are you? What did you say to my sister that made her hit you? If you were mean, I‘ll-”

“Hugo, enough.” Ron seems reluctant to have to stop the threat likely coming, but she’s glad that he stepped up and put fatherhood above a childhood rivalry. “Don’t I get a hug, too, or am I Hippogriff dung now?”

“You’re so silly, Dad,” Rose mutters before she gives him a hug. When she lets go, she steps back. “I’m starving. The train ride seemed to take forever, and I didn’t trust any of the sweets that Malfoy and Corner had with them, and I never eat anything that the cousins give me.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley.” Scorpius steps up from behind Hugo and introduces himself. “I’m Scorpius Malfoy, Weasley’s rival and worst enemy.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Go find your parents, Malfoy, and pester them. Besides, you only wish that you were my worst enemy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione says politely, reaching over to grip Ron’s arm in such a way that she can use her fingernails if he’s rude.

“Yeah, same,” Ron mutters, glaring slightly anyway.

“Scorpius, your mother is waiting.” A cool voice speaks out from behind them. Scorpius looks up and smiles at his father.

“Father, this is Rose Weasley.” He nods towards Rose before he walks towards his father.

Hermione digs her fingernails into Ron’s arm when he tenses at the sight of Draco Malfoy. Draco glances at Rose and nods politely. “Miss Weasley. I’ve heard that you’re fortunate enough to have inherited your mother’s intelligence - along with her riotous hair, it seems.” He looks at her and Ron and smiles slightly. “Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley. Good day. Come along, Scorpius. We don’t wish to keep your mother waiting.”

“Don’t forget to practice, Malfoy,” Rose calls out as he follows behind his father. He mutters something in reply before hurrying after his father. She ruffles Hugo’s hair before she smiles at them. “Can we eat? I’m still starving.”

“We can go to Finnigan’s,” Hugo suggests as he tries to pick up Rose’s trunk. Ron moves forward to help him.

“Oh, can we?” Rose takes her hand and squeezes. “I’m really glad to be home, Mum. I’ve missed you.”

Hermione returns the squeeze and smiles. “I’ve missed you, too. And, yes, Finnigan’s sounds like a good choice before the long drive home.”


	47. Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ron visit Hermione for their monthly brunch

“You’ve been a bad influence on my son.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione looks up from the frying rashers of bacon and gives Harry a ‘you’d better explain yourself to my satisfaction or I’ll hex warts on your arse’ look.

Harry leans against the counter and steals a slice of tomato. “Al says that his favorite thing about Hogwarts is the library. I fully blame you, of course. A son of mine loving the library? It has to be a bad influence from his favorite aunt.”

“Does that mean I should blame you for the stacks of Quidditch magazines currently covering the table in the lounge and the fact that my daughter is practicing her flying right now?”

“Nah, that’s not because of me. You need to blame Ron for that.”

“Blame me for what?” Ron asks as he enters the kitchen. He gives Harry a suspicious look before focusing on her. “Hugo’s finished his book, so I told him it was okay to go outside and play. Rose is still ignoring me. Gotta love kids.”

“Why is Rose ignoring you?” Harry takes a bite of the tomato and dribbles juice onto the floor.

“Why do girls ever act the way they do?” Ron shrugs. “I have no idea. It’s like she left for school being my little Rosie, and now she’s this odd creature that acts like I’ve committed some horrid sin just by talking to her.”

“Ah. Yeah, Lily hasn’t reached that odd stage where a female stops making any sense at all and becomes something unfamiliar.” Harry shakes his head. “I can’t believe our little Rosie is already there. She’s not even a teenager yet.”

“She better not get any worse. Bloody hell. This is difficult enough. I thought she was fine yesterday but then, during lunch, she started glaring and ignoring. She’s been doing that for most of the morning since I got here, too.”

“Don’t try to understand women, mate. It’s pointless. I don’t think they even understand themselves most of the time.” Harry reached over and clapped a hand against Ron’s shoulder. “Beneath all the glares and attitude, she’s still your daughter.”

“Ahem.” Hermione clears her throat to remind them that a female is standing right there before they continue their discussion. “Rose is not some alien creature. Maybe if you didn’t think of her as such, you wouldn’t feel so awkward.”

“I’m not awkward! She’s the weird one. Don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed it. I’m not going mad,” Ron mutters before he walks over to the refridgerator and gets a bottle of juice.

“I think that it takes a little time after coming home from school to get settled back into things,” she says honestly. “I remember that it always felt strange to be back home and to change routines after months of school.”

“Hermione’s right. James is the same way,” Harry says as he turns and reaches into the cabinets for glasses. “Al seems happy to be home, but I’m questioning his sanity since he was excited about a library, of all bloody things.”

“A library? Your son?” Ron snorts before he adds, “Oh, and don’t tell her she’s right. I’ll never hear the end of it.” He pours a glass of juice for himself and then one for Harry. “Want?”

“The library is a good favorite place at Hogwarts, thank you very much. I’ll be sure to ask Al all about it whenever I see him next.“ She looks at Ron and shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’ve got coffee. You know me and my morning coffee. It‘s a necessity. By the way, Harry can say whatever he wants. I’m almost always right, so that’s nothing new.”

“ _Anyway_ , this isn’t like that. Rose has never ignored me before, even when I’ve embarrassed her. She’s more like you, with eye rolling and acting like I’m childish,” he says. “Not a word, Potter.”

“What?” Harry looks innocent before he smirks. “Childish, huh?”

“That!” Ron glares before taking a drink of his juice. He looks at Hermione. “You’ll talk to her for me and make sure that I’ve not buggered something up and made my daughter hate me, yeah?”

“Rose doesn’t hate you.” She finishes frying the bacon and turns off the heat. “She’s simply adjusting. Things will be fine, I’m sure. She didn‘t act strange during breakfast; I‘d have noticed.”

Ron looks around before he lowers his voice. “I think she’s still upset about Mel. She asked me if ‘that woman’ was going to be around next weekend when she and Hugo come over. I’d planned for Mel to finally meet her, but now I’m not so sure. I don’t want Rose to make Mel feel weird or for Rose to feel weird.”

“Did she?” Hermione faces them and leans against the counter. It wasn’t a good sign if Rose didn’t approve of Mel without even meeting her. Of course, Ron might just be making a big deal out of nothing. She couldn’t really offer advice about Mel, though. She hadn’t told Rose and Hugo about Teddy yet. By the time they got home yesterday, everyone was tired from the road trip, and there hadn’t been a good time. Today, it’s the monthly brunch, and Rose is busy with flying and getting adjusted to being out of school.

“Yeah. That Woman, like she doesn’t know her name or something. I don’t know what to do,” Ron admits as he runs his fingers through his hair and tugs. “Have you told them about--”

“No, not yet,” she interrupts, not wanting him to say Teddy’s name in case Hugo or Rose suddenly comes into the kitchen. She felts a knot of anxiety twist in her belly at the thought but tries to ignore it. She plans to tell them. Soon.

“Not sure if my opinion counts, but I think you should do whatever you planned,” Harry says quietly. “Rose is going to have to get used to the idea of Mel unless you plan on ending things, so it seems pointless to put off a meeting that has to happen sometime.”

“Course it counts. Just don’t know if I want to force Rose and Mel into something awkward just to make things hurry up and make myself feel better.” Ron makes a face. “Would be easy to just make it happen and let it fall-out however it does, but someone could get hurt, you know?”

“Someone could always get hurt,” Hermione points out. He’s right in a way, though. She hasn’t told Hugo and Rose about Teddy yet because she doesn’t want to make things worse by doing it casually. She’ll know when the right time is, she’s sure, and she’ll deal with the consequences after. “Besides, you know how you get, especially with Rose.”

“She’s my baby girl,” he says simply. “And, no, I don’t know ‘how I get’.”

“You take any criticism to heart and get overly dramatic sometimes,” Harry says helpfully. “You do it worse with your mum, but Rose has you wrapped around her little finger and has since she was born.”

“Yes, what Harry said.” She turns back to the bacon and begins to prepare the plates. “Brunch is ready. We should eat before it gets cold.”

“I’m going to go check on the kids, but I’ll be right back.” Ron walks over and steals a rasher of bacon before he hurries out of the kitchen.

“He moved fast. Must have expected you to hex him.” Harry puts down his glass of juice and starts to help. “Do you think he’s right about Rose?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “She hasn’t mentioned Mel or Ron’s dating in any letters to me, but I don’t think she’s really the type to glare and mutter. It’s not necessarily her way.”

“Not with you two as parents. Tantrums and loud fights is more likely.”

“Thanks.” She swats his arm and hands him the plate of bacon and sausage. “Put that on the table, Potter.”

“Bossy,” he mutters before he walks out of the kitchen. When he comes back, she hands him the plate of eggs. “I’m not your House Elf, Granger-Weasley.”

“Keep pushing it, and you’re on clean up duty,” she warns. It’s a hollow threat since she knows that he and Ron will wash up after brunch anyway. It’s how their monthly meetings always go. One cooks or provides food, and the other two clean up. She’s relieved that they’re doing this month’s at her house, since Rose just got home and Ginny isn’t likely to be thrilled at her being over anytime soon. She misses Teddy, especially after receiving a letter last night from him, but this is her tradition with Harry and Ron, so he’d not have been invited anyway.

“How are things going?” Harry whispers, looking around like she did earlier before he focuses on her. “This sneaking around secretive thing makes me remember school. All we need is my invisibility cloak and Filch chasing after us.”

“Only you would say that as if you miss it,” she whispers back, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Sometimes, I do.” He sighs and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Even with the whole evil wizard out to kill me and take over the world, we had good times. I was looking at George yesterday and wondering what Fred would make of the fact Fabian is so prissy at times. And I look at Teddy, and I hate that he’s had to grow up without ever knowing his parents.”

“Is everything okay, Harry?” she asks softly. He sounds melancholy, which always worries her.

“Oh, yeah. Things are fine, overall. Ginny and I have stopped fighting over things, for the most part, by just agreeing to disagree. All the kids are home now, so the house is loud and active again. I just feel old some days.”

“I’m sorry.” She hates that he and Ginny have had problems because of her and her choices. She’s glad to hear that they’ve compromised, but it shouldn’t have had to happen in the first place. “We’re not old. Not yet, anyway. Wait another hundred years, then we’ll sit in the garden with Ron and reminisce about our school days and embarrass our children by telling our grandchildren outlandish stories of our youth and breaking rules.”

Harry straightens up and smiles slightly. “The promise of being old and embarrassing my children one day shouldn’t cheer me up as much as it does, you know?”

Before she can reply, Ron comes back into the kitchen. “I might have been overreacting,” he admits with a grin. “Rose asked me my opinion about a Quidditch move, and there weren’t any glares or anything.”

“Imagine that. You overreacting?” Hermione feigns surprise before she hands him the last plate to put on the table. She kisses his cheek and ruffles his hair before she picks up her cup of coffee. “Come on. Let’s eat before everything’s cold.”


	48. Comprehension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday meeting and lunch

The conference room smells better than the one downstairs. Hermione’s glad that she managed to schedule a meeting for this one because there’s more space to be comfortable. Of course, the main reason that it was still available on short notice is because there aren’t many people inclined to have meetings on Monday morning. It’s not the best time, especially when Mondays are generally busy and hectic, but she likes the idea of going over new information since their last meeting and having tasks for the upcoming week.

She arrives in the conference room before the rest of her team. She deliberately gave herself ten minutes so that she could escape her office on time and have a few minutes alone to review the file. The Warrington case is a priority, but there seems to have been little progress made in recent weeks. They have clues and ideas to pursue, but it just takes so bloody long to get results. Studying the case is a good distraction from her personal life, though, so she focuses intently and compares her thoughts to her notes.

It’s been a couple of weeks since their last meeting, so she hopes that there is new information to analyze. Teddy has spent the morning down with Greg, so there’s a possibility that he’s made progress with the children. She hasn’t seen him yet to ask, since he went straight to Wizarding Welfare upon arriving at work for an early meeting. The weekend was alright, but she misses him. A couple of letters aren’t the same as having him with her.

When the door opens, she glances up and smiles at Kevin. “Morning.”

“Hiya, Boss,” Kevin says as he takes a seat and begins reviewing his notes. “You do realize that a meeting before lunch on a Monday is evil, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s what you have to endure when you have a cruel boss,” she tells him matter-of-factly.

“Who has a cruel boss?” Susan asks as she enters the conference room. She puts down a messy stack of piles that has Hermione itching to organize them.

“We do.” Kevin grins. “It’s why we’re here for a meeting at this ungodly time.”

Susan shrugs. “Eh, the way I look at it is that we get to go from here to lunch, so it’s not all bad. Where’s Lupin? He’s usually here before me.”

“He’s down with Goyle in Welfare this morning. They were having another interview with the children, but he should be here soon.” She frowns at her file and makes a couple of notes to research further later. “I wanted to get our progress meeting out of the way early this week so that we can work on the case with some definite direction this week.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Teddy enters the room and closes the door behind him. He looks rushed and agitated, but he flashes a quick smile that lets her know he’s okay. He sits down and runs his hand through his hair. “Did I miss anything?”

“We decided that Boss is cruel for Monday morning meetings,” Kevin offers. “But Susan put it into perspective by mentioning lunch. Food makes most things better.”

“We just started,” Susan says. “Direction for the week and all that.”

“Do you have any information from your sessions with the children?” Hermione asks as she marks off a new section of her notes.

“Unfortunately, not much. It’s taken them a while to even speak, and Howard still doesn’t say a lot unless it’s about my faces. Beth is more curious, but she asks questions about magic and never mentions their time with Warrington, which is understandable but frustrating. We’re thinking about letting Lavender speak with them, to see if she can draw out more information.”

She mutters under her breath when he says that they’ve not made any progress with the children. She knows it takes time, especially with children who have been through traumatic events, but she wants to feel confident for the trial. They probably have enough to get a sentence already, but there’s just enough room for Warrington to possibly maneuver his way out of if he hires someone willing to do anything for the money. She wants it airtight; then she’ll be able to move on to another case without worrying about this one so much.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. She might be able to get something or, at the least, she can give you some suggestions on the best approach. They don’t need to be put through anything more than they’ve already gone through, but we have to have more if we want this to be solid for trial. I don’t want to go in and get blindsided because we don’t have enough to seal his fate.”

“I heard from Vane finally. She didn’t have anything for us, though. Everything she could find out about Warrington just confirms what we already know. Wealthy, Pureblood, donates money and time to children’s causes, and there’s nothing in his past that seems suspicious. He’s clean, so far as the public knows.”

“Bugger.” Susan says what Hermione would like to say. “How could he hide something like that? The man’s a monster. I can’t believe no one saw that regardless of how much money he gave away.”

“People like that are good at hiding,” she says. She knows that from experience. Before she can go over the next point, there’s a knock on the door. “Yes?”

Ron pokes his head in. “Oh, good. Found you.” He comes into the room and closes the door. “We just got new information that I wanted to give you before your meeting, but I missed you.”

“About Warrington?” She sits up straighter and takes the thin file from him.  
“Actually, I have news about one of the kids,” Ron says. “The boy is Howard O’Connell, age nine, and he went missing five months ago from Glasgow. He’s an orphan, so there haven’t been any relatives looking for him. The appropriate paperwork was filed, and they worked under the assumption that he ran away. It’s not uncommon with orphans, it seems, so no one really looked for him. That file is all that we got from the Muggle authorities.”

“A nine year old boy running away isn’t a cause for concern?” Teddy asks, sounding as dumbfounded as she feels. “That’s ridiculous.”

“They’re Muggles.” Ron fidgets when she gives him A Look and suddenly finds the table very interesting. “I mean, maybe it happens enough that they don’t investigate properly. It’s shoddy work, whatever. They didn’t do much of anything, from what I can tell.”

She skims the file and is disgusted at how easily the police wrote the boy off as a runaway. While she can understand heavy caseloads, there’s no excuse for not giving proper attention to a case involving a child, especially one so young. “I’m going to file a complaint about this with the Muggle Liaison. It won’t really do much, but maybe it’ll make them think twice before being this lazy again.” 

“Harry’s taking it to Shacklebolt in their next meeting, so something might happen.” Ron grins suddenly. “You know Harry. He hates filling out paperwork unless it’s necessary. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work. I just wanted you to have that information ASAP.”

“Thanks, Ron. Tell Harry that I’ll make the complaint official,” she says, making a note to remind herself to fill out the forms later. “Alright, I’ll make copies of this and send them around later. Ron’s right, though. There’s really not much information here beyond location and name. Susan, I want you to go to Glasgow and look into this. See if you can spot anything that might give us an idea about what really happened.”

“Got it, Boss. I’ll head up there tomorrow morning and talk to the orphanage people. Maybe they’ll remember something helpful.” Susan frowns in thought. “I might take Summerby with me, if we can spare him. He might be useful.”

Hermione arches a brow and considers it. Summerby is brilliant with memory charms, which would be helpful when dealing with Muggles depending on what might come up during the investigation. He’s also good with interrogation, an area that Susan still isn’t exceptionally strong in. She admires the fact that Susan is aware of her weaknesses and doesn’t want to jeopardize the case out of pride. “Take him with you. He’s not in the middle of anything major at the moment.”

“What can I do?” Kevin asks. “Susan’s got the Glasgow investigation and Ted’s working with the children. Should I keep on following the interaction leads?”

“I need you to stay with Warrington. I know it’s frustrating not finding anything, but just stick with it. Give me a history of him, since he left Hogwarts, and find out his associates, whether they’re professional or just names that come up often for the charities or guest lists. We can analyze those and see if there are any indications of where to take that investigation next.”

“It is frustrating,” Kevin agrees, “but it’s necessary. Vane did give me a list of different events he attended, so I’ll start looking into those. I’m also still trying to pursue your lead about Swift Air, but whoever bought the company obviously doesn’t want to be located. Everything’s stayed with the same name, and employees are either not talking or don’t know anything.”

“Alright. I’ll take that over. You focus on Warrington. Susan, you’ve got Glasgow and Howard’s kidnapping. Teddy, keep working with the children and update me as you have been.” She looked down at her notes. “Warrington still hasn’t arranged for defense or made a plea. He’s being held at Azkaban, and I’ve been told that he’s not had any visitors at all. I don’t know how much longer he’ll wait, since it’s been three weeks already, but I prefer the knowledge that he’s in prison instead of out awaiting trial. Anyway, I think that concludes everything. Keep me in the loop, as always.”

“Sure thing, Boss.” Susan gathers her disorderly pile of files and leaves, closely followed by Kevin.

“I’ve got my report from today’s meeting with the children ready,” Teddy says after they’re alone. “Would you want to go to lunch to discuss it, Boss?”

She looks up and notices his sly grin, fully aware that discussing work is the last thing on his mind. After a moment, she nods. “We can have a working lunch, Teddy. Let me get everything put away then we’ll go. Say ten minutes?”

“Ten minutes. And that’s one swat for the day,” he murmurs as he stands up.

“Goodbye, _Ted_.” She stresses his name, and he winks before he goes back to his desk. She shakes her head and smiles as she finishes making notes from the meeting. 

Once she finishes, she leaves the conference room and goes down the corridor to her office. Teddy’s at his desk working on something but looks up and smiles when she enters the office. She nods at him before giving Caroline the report from Ron to copy and send to the rest of the team. When she gets into her office, she puts things away and rubs the back of her neck while she considers her schedule for the week. It’s going to be busy, but she wouldn’t work in this department if she wanted a slow week.

After she gets her bag, she picks up a file and goes back into the outer office. “Ted, are you ready?”

“Sure thing, Boss.” He gets up and grabs his files before he joins her.

“Caroline, I’ll be at Finnigan’s having a working lunch if you need me. Be sure to take your full lunch today. I noticed that you took a shorter one on Friday.”

They leave the office and manage to catch the lift without waiting. It’s crowded in the lift, so she’s pushed against Teddy as more people get on at the third floor. He touches her back, but she doesn’t look at him. When his hand moves down to grip her bum, however, she steps back and makes sure that her heel lands on the front of his shoe. There’s casual touching in a crowded lift and then there’s dangerous wandering hands that can be seen by anyone.

The lift arrives at the Atrium, and she exits with him close behind. “That was just mean,” he whispers as they walk to the Floo queue. “Those heels are lethal, by the way.”

“Be glad that I was only able to reach your foot,” she mutters, “or you’d have felt it somewhere even more uncomfortable.”

“It’s probably really warped that I want to word-I-can’t-say-at-work you right now after such a threat,” he muses as they get into the queue. He opens one of the files he’s holding and shows it to her as he ducks his head down by her ear. “I missed you this weekend.”

“Ditto.” She looks down at the file and smiles when she sees the note that he’s written. “I’m not, but thank you for the compliment.” She reaches down and closes the file before anyone else can see that the note simply says ‘You’re beautiful’.

“We’ve had this conversation before. I was right then, and I’m right now,” he says simply as they arrive at the Floo.

Instead of arguing with him, she tosses in Floo powder and steps through and into Finnigan’s. He joins her, and she requests a private booth for a working lunch. Soon, they are seated in the back with charms around the area to keep their conversation confidential. She puts the file down and opens the menu as she relaxes.

“Is Rose all settled in then?” Teddy asks curiously as he reads his own menu. “Your letter mentioned some discomfort last night.”

“I think so. Ron was being paranoid for a while, but I didn’t really notice anything outright. It’s always strange to go back home after your first year away at school, I think. It takes time to get back into the habit of not being on a school schedule, so Rose is adjusting pretty well.”

“I’m glad. Did you tell her and Hugo about us?”

“Not yet.” She glances up. “It didn’t seem the best time. I will, though. I wanted to give Rose a chance to relax after a long school year.”

“Why can’t she relax while knowing about us?” His hair slowly changes from brown to dark purple. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just-I want that bit over, you know? I know you’re worried, and I am, too, and we’ll know how they take it after so we can deal. “

“I know. It’s just not something I can announce casually. I’ll tell them soon. Promise.”

“Alright.” He studies her a moment before he says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Ginny?”

“What do you mean?”

“That she’s not accepting us at all and likely being a huge bitch to you?” He sighs. “We said that we’d be honest and talk about stuff, but we’re not doing that if you’re protecting me from how people really are reacting and all.”

“I’ve mentioned that Ginny was having difficulty, haven’t I?” She honestly can’t remember now that she’s thinking about it. Maybe she didn’t tell him.

“I stopped by there last night for dinner and to see the kids, since James and Al are home now. It was…uncomfortable. Not the kids or even Harry, but she was cool to me. She’s never been that way before, and she was snappy about my breaking up with Victoire at Easter, like I did something wrong. From what I can tell, she’d been talking to Fleur, who needs to keep her nose out of Vic’s business because it was a mutual bloody decision.”

“Had she told Fleur?” She felt a moment of panic that only eased slightly when he shook his head. “Are you sure?”

“She wouldn’t have, not with Harry on our side. They seemed tense together, but not in the way that makes me think things aren’t going to resolve. I don’t know. It was just a weird time, and I realized how tough it must be for you, since you’ve known her so long and been her sister-in-law.” He shrugs. “I was hurt that you hadn’t shared it with me, let me try to make it better or something.”

“Well, there’s not really anything that you could do, Ted. I’m sorry that you had to deal with that but, really, it might be even worse than that once our relationship is widely known. Are you sure that you want to go through that? Maybe lose friends and realize how people really feel?” 

She’s scared of his answer. She still worries about reactions and fears losing a lot of people close to her, but she’s resolved to give them a chance and to stop hiding if they continue their relationship. The idea of him ending it makes it difficult to breathe properly.

“Hey, none of that,” he says firmly, nudging his leg against hers. “I’m sure. I’d rather know who my real friends are, anyway. It’s just maddening, in a way, that our personal life is anyone’s business, and I hate that you’re having to go through so much just to be with me. I’m going through some stuff, too, yeah, but it’s mostly falling on you. It’s just not fair.”

“Ginny cares about you, and she’s got this inability to see things as anything but black and white. So, I’m the villain, in her eyes, and I don’t know if that will ever change. I hate that Harry’s having marital trouble because of me, but it’s not something I can control.” She makes a face. “I’m sorry that she took some of her attitude out on you, though.”

“I’m a big boy, Hermione. I can handle it.” He looks at her intently. “Understood? No protecting me or trying to deal with all this on your own. We’re in this together, and I want to share in everything, the good and the bad.”

After a moment, she nods and smiles. “Understood. Now, tell me about your weekend. I missed you.”


	49. Consultation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione meets with a contact about the Warrington case

The mid-week briefing with Harry takes longer than expected. There are several cases to discuss, and Harry wants to review Warrington in detail. Unfortunately, there isn’t much new detail to go over. It’s only Wednesday, so the team hasn’t been able to find out anything yet. Hermione knows they’re pursuing their assignments, just as she’s following through on hers. Still, it’s not easy to see Harry look disappointed when his department can only continue doing what it has been.

When they finish their meeting, she breaks one of her own personal rules and gives him a hug. “Don’t get discouraged. If worse comes to worst, we have enough from Corner’s lab to back-up the charges.”

“You don’t approve of hugs at work,” Harry reminds her before he returns the hug. “I just can’t get the crime scene out of my mind. I won’t be able to until we know the bastard’s not going to do that anymore.”

“None of that, Potter. Trust me. He’ll not be a threat to anyone else after I get finished with him,” she promises. It’s times like these that she’s glad she’s stubborn and determined because those two qualities help her feel confident even when faced with cold trails that don’t seem to go anywhere. It appears to help Harry, because he relaxes.

“I do trust you. It’s why you’ve got this case.” He stretches. “And it’s almost noon. Bloody hell. That took ages.”

“Is it?” She frowns and gathers her things. “I’ve got a meeting at twelve. We’re finished here?”

“Bugger. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have stopped asking so many questions.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. I won’t be late, so it’s fine.” She smiles. “You always ask questions. It’s what makes you good at your job.”

“Yeah, well, I know how you hate tardiness. I’d have asked a little faster, if nothing else.” He follows her to the door and opens it, smiling briefly before he shifts awkwardly. “Hi, Ginny. You’re early.”

She looks up and sees Ginny standing in the waiting room. The warm smile that greeted Harry’s words fades into a tight smile as Ginny nods at her. “Hello, Ginny,” she says politely.

“Hello Hermione.” Ginny turns towards Harry and smiles. “I’m not that early. Victoire wanted to look at the employment openings, so we came early. I decided to come up and wait in your office.” Beyond the greeting, Ginny ignores her and speaks to Harry as if Hermione’s not standing there, though it looks like Ginny smirks slightly when she mentions Victoire. Being ignored is frustrating, even if Hermione can understand some reasons why Ginny might be upset with her.

“I’ll be going now. I don’t want to be late to my meeting,” she tells Harry. She wants to get to her office before Victoire joins them, since that’s one person she definitely prefers to avoid right now. Besides, if she wants to stop in her office and still make it to the meeting on time, she needs to start now.

"Alright. I know you really have to run, but I'll let you know when I hear anything new," Harry says. He turns to Ginny. "Hermione's been working really hard on that case I mentioned. It's a tough one."

Hermione leaves the office before she has to hear Ginny’s response, and hurries down the corridor to her department and, most importantly, her office. She is stopped twice along the way but finally makes it to her space. Only to find Victoire leaning against Teddy’s desk and laughing at something he’s said. She stops in the doorway and feels like someone has kicked her in the gut as she watches him smile and run his fingers through his turquoise hair.

Suddenly, she understands Ginny’s smirk, which she had assumed to be due to making her uncomfortable. She tightens her grip on her files and ignores Teddy’s desk as she enters the office and walks towards her door. They’re so caught up in each other that she doubts they’ll even notice her.

“Hello, Aunt Hermione.”

The words are like having cold water thrown on her. She stops in mid-step and glances over to see Victoire smiling at her. Teddy is looking at her, too, which is unexpected. She thought that he’d be embarrassed at being caught flirting or would avoid her stare out of guilt. Instead, he looks normal--a fact that is puzzling, in a way.

“How did the briefing go, Boss?” Teddy asks with a slow smile.

“Hello, Victoire. You look lovely,” she says with slightly grudging honesty. She glances at Teddy. “It was fine. I have another meeting in ten minutes, though, so I need to get ready.”

“That’s too bad. We’re going out for lunch with Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. I was going to ask you and Uncle Ron to join us,” Victoire says. “I’m going to try to get a job here, though, after I receive my NEWT scores, so we’ll have to have lunch soon.” She smiles and looks down at Teddy. “You ready?”

“Yes. Let me just give this report to the boss lady, and I’ll be ready.” Teddy stands up and walks over to her. “Here, let me help you get this to your office. You don’t want to be late to your meeting.”

“I can handle it,” she says more curtly than she intends. She is not jealous of her niece. She is not jealous of her young, gorgeous niece. She is not jealous of--Oh, who is she kidding? She’s surprised that her skin hasn’t turned green from how jealous she feels right now. Teddy is being very friendly with his ex-girlfriend right in front of her and going out to lunch with her as if that’s no big deal at all. Or maybe she’s just being melodramatic; seeing Ginny left her tense and possibly irrational.

Teddy frowns but takes some of the files from her. “I’m sure you can, but I can help.” 

She glares at him and goes into her office, fighting the urge to slam the door shut in his face. The meeting with Ginny put her on edge, and seeing him with Victoire hasn’t helped her calm down. When she puts her files on the desk, she looks at Teddy. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Why are you saying it like that? It’s lunch, not an orgy.” He shakes his head, but she can see his lips quirking at the sides. He’s probably laughing at her, she decides, which is annoying. “You’re the only woman that I want to word-I-can’t-say-at-work. Vic is just a friend.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” she tells him. “I don’t care about Victoire.”

“Right. Of course you don’t. Silly me.” He’s humoring her now. She scowls at him and takes her files from him. He hands them over easily and adds, “It’s Ron’s weekend with the kids, isn’t it?”

The change of subject surprises her. She nods. “Yes, it is.”

“Go out with me on Friday. I miss you and want to see you.”

“You’re seeing me now,” she points out despite knowing what he means. Seeing him at work and even the occasional lunch isn’t the same. Despite her jealousy at the moment, she nods. “Friday after work.”

“Good. I’d better get back out there. Vic is waiting. Seriously, Hermione, she’s just a friend.” He sighs. “I hate not being able to touch you whenever I want to.”

“You should go. I have to get to a meeting, and you’ve got people waiting.” She watches him leave her office and runs her hands through her hair after he closes the door behind him. She’s behaving like an insecure teenager, which hasn’t happened since she _was_ an insecure teenager. After a moment, she gathers up the files that she needs for her meeting and leaves her office.

The café is Muggle. It’s small and tucked out of the way near Covent Garden. Hermione hasn’t been to it in a couple of years, but she remembers that the food is affordable and good. The last meeting place was a loud Indian restaurant in Oxford, so she’s glad for a more convenient location. Despite that, she’s curious about the repetition. Whenever she meets this contact, it’s always Muggle places and never the same one.

She arrives with one minute to spare, but she knows that her companion will be ten minutes late, at least. It’s all games of power and silly nonsense like that, but she’s used to it now. If anything, it’s generally amusing because her knowledge of the game gives her the most power in this situation. Once she is seated at a table out of the way, she quickly casts the necessary charms to keep the upcoming conversation private and confidential.

It’s ten after twelve on the dot when Rita Skeeter arrives. Hermione takes a sip of her water as she watches the other woman enter the café and look around. Rita is in her eighties now but looks no older than fifty; Hermione still hasn’t been able to figure out whether this is due to good genes or magical aging treatments. Regardless, Rita commands attention from several people in the café and seems to bask in it as she walks towards their table.

“Hermione, dear. Do forgive me for being late. I was just too busy to get away,” Rita says as she sits down. “You know how it is.”

Even after fifteen years, there’s a surreal moment at being greeted by her given name. She can never quite forget fourth year no matter how closely she and Rita might work together at times. “Yes, I know, Rita. Thank you for meeting me.”

“I was intrigued,” Rita says simply. It’s what always secures a meeting, since their first unexpected one years ago. Hermione knows how to play the game better now than she did back then, and, in a warped way, she has Rita to thank for that.

The server arrives to take their orders then disappears into the kitchens. Hermione opens her file and gets her pen ready. “I need information regarding kidnapping and selling children.”

“Ah. Warrington it is, then.” Rita purses her lips and studies Hermione. “You’re perturbed this afternoon, dear. It’s making you sloppy. Much too blunt.”

“It seems foolish to waste time seducing you into helping when you wouldn’t be here if you had no intention of offering assistance,” she says simply. She doesn’t see being blunt as the same thing as being sloppy.

Rita sniffs and looks out the window. “I might simply be toying with you. You should never take my help for granted.”

“I don’t. However, this is a big case. After it goes to trial, there’ll be a clamor for an exclusive article to help ease the public’s mind about Warrington and what he did to those children.” She arches a brow. “I take your desire for exclusive articles for granted, not your help.”

“You’ll agree to be interviewed for the article as well as for any future projects that might involve this case,” Rita says firmly. “I’ve been feeling the desire to write another book soon, and this case might suit, depending on my chosen theme. Crimes against children are horrid yet people feel a yearning to know more. Perhaps for some it’s under the guise of protecting their own families, but I think it’s more a craving for truths that are horrifying.”

“No. I’ll not let the story be used in a book. There were survivors who don’t deserve to have the public’s morbid curiosity satisfied by reading details of their torture.” She is ready to leave now if that is the only trade offered. Rita has gained a reputation for her non-fiction books, and the emphasis on crimes is what led to their first meeting. However, Hermione has lines that she won’t cross, even for information.

“Just because I don’t write it doesn’t mean that someone else won’t,” Rita points out. “I wouldn’t have progressed to writing what I do if there wasn’t a need and desire. I make much more with my books on horrid subjects than I ever did with dating histories. There’s a reason for that, dear.”

“Perhaps you’re simply recognized now for writing primarily facts versus the fiction that you created back then,” she says bluntly. “No one will be able to write an accurate book because the ages of the victims will require that the case be sealed to protect them. You know how rigid the Wizarding laws are when it comes to children.”

Rita frowns before she takes a drink of her martini. “Fine. I’ll accept an exclusive article after the trial regarding Warrington. However, I want in if this case leads to others. You’ve asked a vague question that could involve future charges being brought against people, and I want first choice on any exclusives.”

Hermione considers it before she nods. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Rita smiles. “Just to clarify the basics, the information we discuss doesn’t go beyond this table, as always, and no one will know of my part, I trust.”

“I’ve kept your name out of things for fifteen years, Rita. I don’t intend to start betraying my confidential contacts anytime soon,” she says dryly. They go through this every meeting. Not even Harry and Ron know that one of her best contacts is Rita Skeeter. If they did, they’d probably think she’s mental for making these deals. Still, there are things that she and her team can’t find out that Rita can, so it’s worth it.

“I always make sure that we understand each other, Hermione.” Rita looks around the café before she casts another charm and then opens her handbag. A quill hangs in the air beside her as she looks at Hermione expectantly. “What do you need?”

“As you said, no information goes beyond this table. If anyone finds out what I’m about to tell you, any deals are off, and I’ll make your job extremely difficult.” It isn’t a threat. She’s just being honest. She has to give information that she doesn’t want the general public to know at this point, so she’s being careful.

“After being kept in a jar, I doubt there’s anything worse you can do to me, dear,” Rita says dryly. “I understand, of course.”

“Warrington obtained the children from an unknown source. The victims and the survivors are being identified as Muggle children. I need to know the names of anyone who has a reputation for dealing with children or possibly Muggles, in general. I know that there’s been talk about a recent increase in sexual slave traffic to Asia, so tell me who is rumored to be involved in that, if you can find out.”

“Is it a wizard involved?”

“We don’t know yet. It could be a Muggle group, but I think we should focus on magical options primarily, considering it involves Warrington. Once we rule out any of those possibilities, we can work through the Muggle lists. I’d like any names you can provide, though, regardless of which world they’re from. If the victims are Muggle, it’s logical that they might have been sold by a Muggle, after all.”

“How old are the victims?” Rita asks, curling her lip slightly in disgust at the subject matter. Hermione appreciates these occasional signs of humanity because there are times when she wonders if anything affects Rita anymore.

“From what we’ve found so far, they range in age from five to twelve. We’ve not yet found any in their teens.” She hands Rita a list with the basics of what she needs. “I know that researching this sort of thing takes time, but sooner is better than later.”

Rita looks at the list before she puts it in her handbag. She grabs the quill and parchment and reviews it before putting it away, too. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I find out anything useful. Was there anything else?”

“Not at this time.” She puts her file away just before their food arrives. “I’ll let you know if anything else comes up. For now, we can just enjoy the remainder of our lunch.” She focuses on her grilled chicken salad and does her best not to think about Teddy and his lunch plans. Instead, she listens as Rita begins to discuss the headlines from the morning’s Daily Prophet.


	50. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy and Hermione go out for dinner

“Shacklebolt knows,” Hermione says as soon as they sit down.

“What?” Teddy blinks in confusion as he stops opening the menu to look at her.

“I think that Shacklebolt knows.”

“Knows what?”

“What do you think, Teddy?”

“Well, there are a lot of different things that Shacklebolt knows, but I doubt many are things that you whisper about as soon as we sit down for our date.”

“You’re being a smart arse,” Hermione mutters as she opens her menu. After a stressful week, it’s nice to go out for dinner and spend time with her whatever Teddy is. She dislikes using the term ‘boyfriend’ even in her thoughts, but there hasn’t been a better title to come to mind since they became involved.

“I am not,” Teddy denies. “I’m just offended that you start talking about all that before we even order. I had hoped to discuss how much you missed me this week and to see if I had a chance of seducing you tonight.”

“Forgive me for being concerned what my boss thinks about my morals and work ethic.” She glares slightly. “Did your grandmother tell him?”

He sighs and looks up at her. “I don’t know. She knows that we’re keeping it private until the kids know, but I have no idea if she told him. What makes you think he knows?”

“During our meeting this afternoon, he went into some monologue about expectations and reputation,” she says. “It was an odd topic for him to bring up out of nowhere, and I don’t know. There was just this knowing look in his eyes. I think he knows, and he was warning me to be careful.”

“Maybe he was just discussing some basic things in case you get promoted? Ogden isn’t likely to continue working the position full-time if his health is a concern,” he points out.

“It wasn’t about that. Ogden is still working, and Shacklebolt’s not the type to waste his time discussing a possibility until it becomes reality. He’s just too busy, and he wouldn’t want to get my hopes up, either.” She shakes her head. “No, I think it’s because he knows about us. I’m just relieved that he didn’t say outright. I’d have been mortified hearing my boss discuss my personal life.”

“We’re not breaking any rules, Hermione. We made sure of that before we ever became involved.” Teddy shifts and glances up at her. “Would it have been so mortifying to be linked to me by someone you respect?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” She puts her menu down and looks at him. “I’m not ashamed of you, Ted. I wouldn’t want my boss to talk about my personal life regardless of whom I was dating. It’s just embarrassing and makes me feel like a teenager being scolded for breaking rules. And, yes, I know that we haven’t actually broken any rules, but it still feels that way sometimes.”

“I know you’re not. I mean, I know it here,” he says as he points to his head, “but there are times when it feels like you are. I mean, it’s been a week and you still haven’t told the kids about us. Now, you’re cross because you think Shacklebolt knows, and you’re trying to blame Gram.”

“I’m not blaming anyone. I haven’t told Hugo and Rose because there hasn’t been a good time yet. I don’t want to just announce it at dinner, after all.”

“Why not?” Teddy grips his menu tighter, and she notices a flash of purple in his hair before it disappears. She looks around the restaurant and wonders if it was a good choice to go Muggle. He nudges her leg with his and says, “I’m trying to be patient and understanding, Hermione, but all the excuses are starting to get old. Putting it off isn’t going to make it any easier.”

“That’s easy for you to say. They’re my children, and I just want to make sure to choose a good time before I announce that I’m dating someone they consider a cousin. Rose wasn’t happy about Mel, and she didn’t even know her before Ron started dating her. For that matter, she still hasn’t met her. While there’s a chance that they’ll be fine and accept our relationship, the possibility that they won’t requires me to choose the right setting before telling them.”

“What if there never is a ‘right time’?” he asks. “Will you keep putting it off and giving yourself excuses to cover the fact that you’re scared? I’m scared, too, for what it’s worth. I have good relationships with Hugo and Rose, and this is going to change that completely. Things are weird with Ginny right now, even if she was better at lunch the other day, and I know more people are going to act strange once we’re not hiding it anymore, but the kids are important because they’re your priority.”

“I’m not hiding the fact that I’m scared, Teddy. I think we’ve both been honest enough about that since we got back together. You’re right, though. The children _are_ my priority, which is why I’m waiting and not just rushing into telling them.”

“Hermione, do you think it’s better if you keep putting it off instead of just being honest with them? It’s going to likely be difficult regardless of when you tell them, but it seems like it’s better to tell them sooner rather than later. The longer you procrastinate, the more chance is that they’ll be told by someone else or figure it out on their own. Then what? They won’t like that you kept it from them for so long, you know? I resented Gram when I first found out about her and Kingsley. I don't want you having to go through that.”

He’s right, as much as she hates to admit it. Rose and Hugo are clever, and it’s not as if no one else knows. The risk of them overhearing something is high, but she’s still not sure if she’s ready to tell them. She’s scared about their reaction, and she thinks telling them at the right time might help. Of course, she can’t really say what exactly the right time _is_ , but there has to be one.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the server, and she glances down at the menu. It’s good that he chose the Italian restaurant for dinner because she can order something she’s had before without having to concentrate on their selection. After they order, the server disappears into the kitchen, and she looks at Teddy.

“This isn’t how I wanted our date to go,” Teddy admits. “I booked us a table here to be romantic, since it’s where we had our first dinner and where we made up weeks later. I don’t want to waste the evening arguing about something that isn’t going to change anything right now anyway.”

“We’re not arguing. We’re just having a difference in opinion.” She smiles slightly and nods. “But you’re right. We should take advantage of the fact that I don’t have the children instead of discussing things that we’ve already gone over a dozen times.”

“More like three dozen times.” He grins and reaches for a breadstick. “So, we’ve agreed. There’ll be no talking about secrets or people being told for the rest of the evening, yeah? I’ll do my best to not nag you about telling the kids, at least.”

“We’ve agreed.” She reaches over and snatches the breadstick from him before he can take a bite. “I’ll do my best not to rant in a paranoid frenzy about everyone somehow knowing about us. But I do think that Shacklebolt knows.”

“There’s a basket full of breadsticks, and you nick mine? That’s just wrong.” He makes a tsking noise before he picks up another breadstick and dips it into the garlic sauce. “You’ll have to be punished for stealing later.”

“Oh, I will?” She arches a brow and watches his lips wrap around the end of his breadstick before he takes a bite. A flood of warmth spreads over her, and she shifts as she rips off the end of her breadstick. Teddy chuckles knowingly, and she rolls her eyes. “Very mature, Lupin.”

“Yes, I am.” He preens for a moment before he lowers his voice. “But even I have my immature moments.” He winks before he takes another bite of his breadstick.

“How was your lunch the other day?” she asks suddenly, not entirely sure if that’s breaking their agreement or not. He mentioned Ginny earlier, though, and she’s curious. Besides, there’s a part of her that is still jealous about him spending time with Victoire, though she’s doing her best to ignore it.

“Well, that’s an abrupt change of subject.” He shrugs a shoulder. “It was okay. Like I said, Ginny wasn’t as weird, even if it’s kind of obvious she’s not comfortable with our relationship. Harry was brilliant, as always, and it was nice to see Victoire.”

“I’m glad that Ginny was alright,” she says sincerely. “How is Victoire?” There. She doesn’t sound resentful or snarling, so she’s proud.

“She might come around eventually. Harry tries to explain her issues to me, but I can’t really get past the whole ‘it’s none of her business’ thing to really listen.” He arches a brow and studies her for a moment. “Vic is doing okay. Glad to be out of school finally but anxious for her exam scores. She wants to work at the Ministry, down in Accidental Magic Reversal, but she can’t apply yet.”

“Really? That’s interesting. I wouldn’t have thought of Accidental Magic for her, in all honesty.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I guess it is. She said that she considered being an Auror but didn’t really want to go through years of training.” He nudges her foot with his. “Knowing Vic, she’ll change her mind a couple of more times before she gets her exam scores. It’s one of the things about her that drove me crazy when we were dating.”

“I thought you liked when things were unpredictable and spontaneous.” She frowns slightly as she considers what his relationship with Victoire might have been like.

“No, I like when you act spontaneously because it isn’t routine for you, but I don’t like living every day that way. Victoire’s a great girl, but we definitely work better as friends.” He hesitates before he adds, “You don’t need to be jealous of her or anything.”

“I’m not,” she denies quickly. Maybe she’s lying, but she doesn’t want him to think she’s a possessive old shrew who is jealous of pretty young women.

“Really?” He glances down at the table before he whispers, “I’m jealous of Ron sometimes. I can’t help it. The two of you are so close, even with the divorce, and he knows more about you than I do. It’s frustrating because I want to know everything and to have that kind of relationship with you, but I know it’s too soon for those thoughts.”

After his admission, she isn’t sure what to say. She’s saved from replying when their food arrives, but she can’t just ignore it. The idea of him being jealous of Ron is surprising, in all honesty, but it makes sense when she considers it. She feels petty for being jealous of Victoire’s looks when Teddy’s concerns are much more than superficial.

“The lasagna looks really good.” He sounds cool and distant when he mentions the food, and she realizes that she’s not said anything at all in several minutes. Bugger.

“You have no reason to be jealous of Ron,” she murmurs, still not entirely sure what to say to him. “He and I have been friends for decades, but our relationship is no longer intimate.”

“I know that you’re not shagging him, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t intimate. There’s more to intimacy than sex,” he mutters. “Forget it. It’s silly anyway. It’s not your fault that I don’t like watching him hug you or doing that stupid thing where he seems to read your mind. I just thought that maybe that’s how you were feeling about Vic, so I understood it, but I guess I was wrong.”

“No, I won’t forget it.” She nudges his leg until he looks at her. At that moment, she can see the vulnerability in his expression, and it hurts her to realize that she caused it. “Part of being in a real relationship is being honest with each other, Teddy. I’m glad you told me, even if it was difficult.” She sighs and puts down her fork. “I won’t lie and say that my relationship with Ron is going to change. We were married for a long time, and we’re been best friends for even longer. We’re always going to have a connection because of that.”

“Don’t treat me like a child, Hermione. Even if I might be acting like one right now, I hate when you do that. It’s not like I don’t know about your past or don’t understand it. This isn’t one of those things where you can be logical and make it all okay. This is just how I feel.” He smiles wryly. “It’s not really something I’m proud of, so I hadn’t mentioned it before. Shouldn’t have now, but I just misunderstood your jealousy about Victoire, not that my relationship with her compares to yours with Ron.”

“I know it isn’t easy for you.” She looks around the restaurant before she focuses on him. “We always talk about how difficult this is for me, for my children and my friends, but I do realize that it’s not just about me. I honestly don’t think that I could do it, if it were me. Being involved with someone who has children from a previous relationship and dealing with an ex who is still close and part of their lives? Don’t ever say that your concerns are silly because they’re not. If anything, mine are, since I’ve been worried about something superficial. I know that you’re in a tough situation, and I’m grateful that you think we’re worth it.”

He reaches across the table and takes her hand, squeezing it as he smiles. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. It _is_ easy for me. I want to be with you, whatever it takes. It’s as simple as that.”

“Normally, I don’t like being wrong,” she reminds him. “However, in this case, I’ll make an exception.”

“Seriously, though, we are worth it. You think so, too, or you wouldn’t be planning on telling the kids. I know that you wouldn’t involve them if this was just something casual or sexual.” His smile turns wicked. “Not that there’s anything wrong with sex, of course. I happen to really enjoy that aspect of our relationship, especially when you get bossy and teach me new things. And that’s probably not appropriate to admit over dinner, is it?”

“Not at all appropriate,” she agrees, watching as he blushes and looks generally adorable. It’s a good change of subject after their rather intense conversation. She’s glad that they can talk, though, especially about something as personal as their fears and concerns. A few weeks ago, she honestly wouldn’t have felt so comfortable being this honest with him, so she can recognize that their relationship is changing. She knows that it’s becoming something more meaningful to her, even if she’s avoiding analyzing what that might mean right now.

“Hey, none of that,” Teddy says. “You’ve already done too much thinking tonight, so no more. I think we could both use a break from thoughts and logic. I’ll get back to my original plan of feeding you amazing food and seducing you.”

“You still haven’t learned that you aren’t supposed to share your schemes if you want them to be successful.” She squeezes his hand before she lets go and picks up her fork. “Besides, I don’t think it’s possible for me to stop thinking completely.”

“It’s the curse of Hufflepuff,” he tells her solemnly. “Being sneaky and plotting just isn’t possible once you’ve been sorted into that house. Fortunately, this plan is mutually beneficial, so I have high hopes for its success.”

“I didn’t realize that Hufflepuff had a curse. Susan might disagree with that theory, since she’s pretty proud of being sneaky.” She takes a bite of her lasagna and watches his face as she eats. “You did get one thing right, though. Mutually beneficial does often lead to success. Of course, after being separated from you for a week, I doubt it takes very much effort to seduce me.”

“That’s so not fair,” he groans as he shakes his head. “You can’t just tell me something like that when I can’t do anything about it.”

“I have a secret to share, Teddy. Life isn’t fair,” she confides, fighting a smile as she attempts to sound serious.

“Point. Also, that’s another swat to the running total.”

“What is the total now?”

“Uh, well, I don’t really remember, so I’ll just swat you a lot if you ever actually let me do it.” His hopeful smile fades as he sighs dramatically. “Which isn’t likely to ever happen but, still, I have to have hope, right?”

“Incorrigible.” She smiles before she takes another bite of her food. He nudges her leg and grins before he starts eating. She shifts as she watches his mouth and wonders if he’s deliberately eating in such a way that is intended to make her think about his lips and tongue. It’s likely part of his plan to seduce her. If so, it’s working very well. 

Tonight, they’re going to skip pudding.


	51. Admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo and Rose come home from their weekend with Ron

It’s been several hours since Teddy went home. During that time, Hermione has cleaned the house, fed the owl, and made a chocolate cake. The children are due home soon from their weekend with Ron, so she wants to make sure that everything is in order before they arrive. Her weekend was busy, so she hasn’t had as much time to do things around the house like normal.

After spending Friday night with Teddy at his flat, they spent Saturday browsing at the Portobello Road Market and wandering around London being spontaneous. It was a different way to spend her day off, but she enjoyed it. Teddy had come home with her for dinner and ended up staying over, but he had left earlier so he wouldn’t be there when the kids got home.

Of course, it wasn’t until after he left that she realized that she needed to get chores done. Now, everything is finished, so she can relax. She’s curious to hear how their weekend went. Rose sent her an owl last night, but it was mostly to ask how she was and to find out what she was doing. It isn’t unusual for Rose to write her during the weekends with Ron, since she’s done that since the separation, but she normally tells Hermione how much fun she’s having or stories about Hugo and Ron being silly boys. This time, it was just questions and vague remarks.

If anything had happened, Ron would have let her know, so she isn’t worried about that. She’s mostly concerned about Rose and why she’s acting so strange since getting home from school. Of course, considering everything that’s been happening in recent weeks, she’s not entirely convinced that she’s not just imagining the mood change in Rose. Ron’s paranoia could be rubbing off on her, after all. It’s the first time that she’s had a child go away to school, so she isn’t sure what the normal adjustment period is or how the routine goes. 

Rose is flying a lot, and she’s working on plans for Quidditch tryouts with her two friends when she’s not reading ahead for next year. Hermione gave permission for both Corner and Malfoy to have Floo access, though she doesn’t plan to tell Ron about that. Rose is nice enough to Hugo, so that’s not really odd, and there are times when she seems to be constantly underfoot trying to help in the kitchen or around the house. Maybe Hermione’s just viewing that as strange since it’s been months without Rose being helpful in that way.

While Rose is unpredictable and complex, Hugo is remarkably uncomplicated. She hopes he stays that way after Hogwarts because she’s not sure that she could endure two strange children next summer. There are people who would probably consider Hugo odd now, of course, but she’d hex them for even suggesting it. His reading is improving, and he’s still in his love of nature and animals phase, which has lasted longer than most of the recent ones. She’s curious to see if it continues as long as his Muggle pirate fascination back when he was seven.

Another glance at the clock shows her that she’s still got twenty minutes if they get home on time, which isn’t definite considering Ron’s inability to be punctual outside of work. She sighs and reaches for one of the magazines that Rose left out on the table. It’s about Quidditch, but it has photographs that Hermione can glance at while waiting, though it’s all brooms and gear that she has no interest in at all.

As she flips through the pages, she keeps an eye out for any reference to Swift Air. After all, it was one of these silly magazines that helped give them a lead in Warrington’s history, so there might be something useful somewhere. It’s more tolerable when she approaches it from a professional angle, so keeps browsing until she hears the Floo activate. She closes it and puts it back just as Hugo steps through the Floo.

“Hi, Mum,” he says before he wipes soot off his face and drags his hand down his shirt. “We’re home.”

“She knows,” Rose says as she enters the room. “She’s got eyes, Hugo. She can see us.” She looks at Hermione. “Hi, Mum.”

“Hello, children.” Hermione looks past them. “Is your father not coming by?”

“Nah, he just sent us through. Said to tell you-“

“That he’ll talk to you at work tomorrow,” Rose interrupts. “He’s got That Woman over, so I guess he doesn’t care if we make it home safely.”

“Her name’s Mel,” Hugo points out. “You said it earlier, so you know what it is.”

“I don’t care what her name is.” Rose frowns at Hugo before she steps forward and looks at Hermione. “I missed you, Mum. Did you have a good weekend? Did you miss us?”

“Of course she missed us.” Hugo shakes his head before he comes over to hug Hermione. “She always misses us.”

“I did miss you,” Hermione agrees, returning Hugo’s hug before she glances at Rose. “Did you have fun with your father?”

Rose shrugs and makes a face. “I guess so. I’d have rather been here with you, though.”

“I had fun,” Hugo says. “We went out for burgers and chips yesterday, and we went to the park today with Mel. Dad let me fly with him, but I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” He bites his lip. “You won’t tell him that I told, will you?”

“That depends. If you take your things up to your room and wash your face, it’ll be our secret,” she promises.

“Do I have to wash up?” Hugo whinges before he sighs. “Fine. Just don’t tell Dad that I told about flying. He doesn’t like when you yell at him.”

“What if I tell him?” Rose asks. “You have to leave me alone next time I Floo call my friends or I’ll tell Dad.”

“Mum! Tell Rose that’s not fair.”

“It is too fair! You don’t want me to tell Dad so you have to do what I say.” Rose smiles smugly. “Isn’t that right, Mum?”

They haven’t been home very long at all, and she can already feel a headache coming on. “Rose, don’t blackmail your brother. Hugo, don’t eavesdrop on your sister’s private conversations. Now, both of you go upstairs and put away your things. When you get back down, we’ll have a slice of cake and you can finish telling me about your weekend.”

They both look like they might argue until she mentions cake. At that, they mutter and head upstairs, bickering along the way. While they’re gone, she goes into the kitchen and cuts the cake. She doesn’t often let them have sweets before dinner, but it’s still early enough that it shouldn’t interfere with their appetites. Rose gets back first and sniffs the cake.

“Oh, it’s chocolate. It smells great, Mum.” She smiles before she opens the cabinet and gets down three glasses. “Milk or juice?”

“Milk for your brother. I’ll take juice,” she says as she finishes cutting. “So, what’s wrong?”

“What?” Rose looks guilty and shrugs. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wish I’d been home with you instead of stuck with Dad and That Woman.”

“Hugo said that you didn’t have a problem calling her Mel earlier,” she points out gently. “Rose, you don’t have to dislike her just for me. She isn’t taking my place or trying to steal your father.”

“I don’t care about her,” Rose mutters. “Dad acts so silly around her, and I just don’t like her. You can’t make me like her, either.”

She sighs and rubs her temple. “Of course I can't make you like her, but Mel makes your father happy. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

"He was happy without her before. I don't see why he needs her now."

"It's not a question of whether he needs her. He likes her, and it's irrational to think someone being happy with a given situation, like your father being happy before without Mel, means he can't be _more_ happy with a change, or that he should stay in exactly the same state forever. People change, and their needs and wants change with them."

"Well, he can just change back. It's bad enough he just left, but as far as I can see, he did that to get away from us, then decided he didn't like being alone and replaced us anyway. So I don't have to like her."

“Oh, Rosie. It’s not like that at all. You know that your father didn’t leave _you_. He left _me_ because we weren’t happy anymore. There's a difference between getting away and running _from_ something, and choosing to live in a way that feels better for everyone. And then he and Mel started dating. That doesn't make Mel a replacement of me _or_ you. It makes her a friend that he likes and that's good for him. No one is going to make him not want you or Hugo. It’s complicated, I know, but you’re old enough to understand that he’s not going to choose Mel or any woman over you.” She’s known since Easter that Rose wasn’t happy with Ron dating again, but she foolishly assumed it was because of things changing. Now, she realizes that maybe she should have forced this talk back then.

“Mum, why’s Rose crying?” Hugo asks as he enters the room. He frowns at her and steps closer to Rose. “Did Mum make you cry?”

“I’m not crying,” Rose denies as she angrily wipes her eyes. “Mum didn’t do anything.” She looks at Hermione and scowls. “It’s not fair that he’s happy when he left us. I don’t care if you told him to go. I don’t like her, and I don’t want to leave you alone anymore because Daddy doesn’t need us. You can’t make me go back to see him.”

“He’s your father, Rose. That hasn’t changed just because he’s dating someone now. It’s been years since we divorced, and it’s not fair to want him to be alone and unhappy,” Hermione tells her. “I know it doesn’t all make sense to you yet. You’re both still young. I like Mel. She’s good for your father, and I’m not angry that he’s dating her. I’m glad he’s happy, and you should be, too.”

“I’m happy,” Hugo says softly. “Mel is nice, and Daddy laughs a lot now. He didn’t use to, before.”

“When we go to school, you’re going to be alone. That’s not fair, either.” Rose bites her lip before she says, “Maybe I shouldn’t go back to school? You can teach me, and I’ll stay home with you. You need me, Mum.”

“Stop talking that way. You’ll be going to school in September with your brother.” She isn’t sure where all this is coming from, but she knows that Rose is obviously upset. “I won’t be alone, so you don’t need to keep worrying about me.”

“Yeah, Rose. You have to go to school. Mum wouldn’t let you stop going.” Hugo looks shocked at the idea of not attending Hogwarts, which is good because she doesn’t need both of the children acting crazy.

"But then Daddy will have That Woman, and Hugo and I will both be gone, and you'll just be you, here by your--"

“I’m dating someone, too.” Hermione blinks when she realizes what she just said. Oh God. This isn’t the right time. Not at all. Why did she say that? Rose is staring at her with wide eyes and Hugo looks confused.

“What?” Rose shakes her head. “No, you’re not. You're just trying to make me like her.”

“Mum wouldn’t lie.” Hugo frowns and reaches out to run his finger through the white creamy frosting on the cake.

Hermione purses her lips. "I might, for a good reason, about some things. But not about this."

“Mum? Dating? But…” Rose stares at her, and she wishes that she could take back what she said.

“I am,” she says softly. She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “For the past few weeks, I’ve been dating someone.”

“But—why didn’t you tell us? Does Daddy know?”

“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it might be serious,” she answers Rose. “Your father knows. He felt a little weird about it at first, like I did about Mel, but he accepts it, and he’s been helpful. We just want each other to be happy.”

“I like Teddy more than Mel,” Hugo announces as he looks at Hermione. “He makes you smile more than you have in ages. Plus, he’s funny.”

“Wait. _Teddy_? Our cousin, Teddy?” Rose puts the glass she’s holding down and stares at the counter. “How does Hugo know? Did you tell him? Why didn’t you tell me? How can you be dating Teddy? He was dating Victoire, and you’re so old. That’s just wrong, Mum.”

“He isn’t your cousin. I didn’t tell Hugo. I already said why I didn’t tell you.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “He isn’t dating Victoire anymore. I know that I’m older than he is, but that’s not really important to us.” She can’t say that it isn’t wrong because there’s a part of her that still wonders if it isn’t.

“I figured it out,” Hugo says proudly. “He’s around all the time, and he makes Mum smile.”

Rose looks shocked and disbelieving. “You’re really dating Teddy?” she asks quietly. She looks back at the counter and frowns. “I don’t want cake anymore. I’m going to my room.”

“Rose, please stay. We can talk about this.”

“I’m going to my room, Mum. Just leave me alone,” Rose says before she turns and leaves the kitchen.

Hugo walks over and gives Hermione a hug. “Just give her time. She’s not seen how Teddy makes you smile yet,” he tells her while patting her shoulder. “I love you, Mum.”

She looks down at him and tries to smile. “I love you, too, baby.” She hugs him tight before letting go.

“I’m not a baby. I’m eleven.” He smiles and pulls a plate of cake towards them. “It looks really good, Mum.”

It’s difficult to remain in the kitchen and not go upstairs to talk to Rose. She wants to go, but she knows Rose well enough to know that it would just make things worse. Still, she can’t help her inclination to go make everything better for her daughter. Only, she doesn’t know how to make this better. Teddy was right. She should have told the kids without waiting for the right moment because this certainly hadn’t been the perfect time.

“Mum?” Hugo nudges her. “Can I have Rose’s slice of cake since she doesn’t want it?”

“Hmm?” She shakes her head and looks down at Hugo. “No, but you can have a second slice after dinner. Save Rose’s slice for her. She might want it later.” She leans down and kisses the top of his head before she pours him a glass of milk and listens carefully just in case Rose comes back downstairs.


	52. Resignation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy catch up on Monday

It’s been a horrible morning. The stacks of paperwork on Hermione’s desk are in danger of toppling over, and it’s not even noon yet. Ogden is out for the week, which she didn’t find out until she arrived. The lack of notice wasn’t his fault, exactly, because she understands that he didn’t find out about a testing process with St. Mungos until yesterday, but it’s still a bother to cover his workload for the week. Fortunately, he’s only been working on two cases, and she had assigned a second to both. She just has to review the files and keep up with everything on top of all her current case load, which is possibly worse than it has been since she joined Magical Law.

Not only is she covering for Ogden, but she heard from Rita and received a very thorough list of possible criminals to investigate regarding stolen children and the trafficking of human beings. It’s disgusting to know that that many names could even be considered, but it’s also infuriating because it’ll take ages to pursue all those leads. Perhaps she’s foolish for having hoped she’d just be sent one or two names, but it would have been nice to have some good news in that case.

Then, of course, there’s the current state of her personal life. It isn’t bad enough that work is stressful at the moment, but now she’s dealing with a relationship and issues with her children. No, not children. Child. Hugo seems to have accepted the fact that she’s dating Teddy relatively well, though she’s not entirely certain that he really understands that some people might tease him or say negative things once they find out. It’s Rose who is the problem.

There’s a knock on the door before Teddy looks in. “Hey, got a minute, Boss?” he asks hesitantly. It seems that everyone around is aware of her bad mood today, though she’s tried not to snap at anyone.

“Sure. Come in.” She motions to the empty chair opposite her desk. It’s good to see him, and she wants to get up and give him a hug, but she knows that she can’t. “Do you have your report?”

He nods. “Right here. I just finished it and wanted to go ahead and give it to you. There’s good news, of a sort. I managed to find out that Beth is from Liverpool, and she’s an orphan. She wouldn’t give me more than that, but it’s a start.”

“Another orphan. It’s not surprising, really, since it’d be easier to steal a child without family, but it’s nice to have confirmation. They’re still trying to name the other victims, so I’ll let Ron know to have them focus on missing orphans,” she says as she takes the report from him. She glances at it and blinks when she reads the first page. “Wait, this isn’t your report.”

“It is. I mean, it’s not _just_ the report.” Teddy sits down and sighs. “I made a decision last night. Before you ask if I’m sure, I am. I think I knew what I wanted to do before, but I took time and really considered it, like you suggested. No regrets and all that, right?”

She looks down at the transfer forms and nods. “Right. Well, if you’re sure, I’ll go ahead and get this processed later today. When did you want it to go into effect?” she asks as she looks back at him. “I’ll need a few days, at least, to get your cases reassigned.”

“Is two weeks good?” He leans forward and frowns. “I don’t want to leave you stuck or anything, Hermione. I just think this is the best choice all around, and I really like it there. Even if we weren’t doing that-thing-we-can’t-talk-about-at-work, I’d have wanted a transfer.”

It’s good to hear that. Despite his earlier comments, she’s been concerned that he might transfer just because of their relationship. She doesn’t want him to be unhappy at work or doing something that he dislikes. She sees him staring at her and nods. “Two weeks is good. We’ll work on transitioning Susan into the internship, and I’ll see about hiring someone else to replace her now that she’s joined the program. With NEWTs concluded recently, there might be someone fresh out of Hogwarts who’s interested in applying with the department.”

“Alright.” He watches her curiously. “Is something wrong? Caroline said that you’re not having a good day.”

She snorts. “I’m sure that Caroline said something more like that I was acting bitchy, but thank you for trying to protect her.” She shrugs a shoulder and looks around the office before she focuses on him. “I told the kids yesterday. About us. I prefer not to discuss my personal life while at work, but it’s such a busy day that I don’t know when I’d have time to really talk with you. Rose didn’t take it well. At least, I don’t think she did since she went up to her room and has barely spoken to me since. Hugo guessed that it was you, and he seems okay, but I don’t know. It’s a bit of a mess.”

“Bugger. Why didn’t you tell me?” He runs his fingers through his hair and frowns. “You should have written me or Floo called me. I’d have come over to see you or written back or something. You shouldn’t have had to deal with all that on your own.”

“Well, it’s not like I planned to just blurt out that we’re dating,” she mutters. “It certainly wasn’t the perfect time that I planned. Afterwards, I was just surprised and anxious about Rose, so I didn’t consider writing.” She shakes her head and sighs. “That’s a lie. I thought about it, but I didn’t really know what to say, so I didn’t send a note.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel worse or anything. I just wish that I could help,” he says softly. “Maybe she’s just shocked about it and needs time to deal? It’ll be okay, Hermione. We’ll get through it together, yeah?”

“That’s what Hugo said, oddly enough. That she just needs time. He can be pretty clever sometimes.” She looks across the desk at him and smiles wryly. “Yeah, we will. I hope.”

He looks relieved. “Oh, good.” He ducks his head and sighs. “I mean, I thought that maybe you were trying to tell me it’s over. Since Rose didn’t accept it and all, I didn’t know what you’d do.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” she murmurs. “Did you really think that I’d just end things immediately because Rose reacted badly?”

“I didn’t know what to expect, Hermione. You never wanted to talk about that possibility, and I know how important your children are to you,” he says as he looks up at her. “I’ve been scared that they’d hate us dating, and you’d break it off.”

She wants to be angry with him for doubting her that way, but she can’t because he’s right. There’s always been the possibility that the children wouldn’t react well, and she knew that she’d have to put their happiness above her own. It’s not something that she wants to consider, though, so she’s avoided talking about it. She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to give up on us, Teddy,” she admits quietly. “I’m going to give Rose time, and we’ll see what happens. In the long run, dropping the relationship to suit her probably wouldn’t be a very good example of being an adult anyway, and might give her ideas about her own authority that would be difficult to live with." She shakes her head. "Unless I'm just rationalizing."

“That sounds like a good plan, especially the part about not giving up on us.” He hesitates before he admits, “I’m really glad to hear you say that. You’re so important to me, and I’ve been scared for weeks that it’d all be over too soon.” He holds up a hand before she can speak. “It isn’t that I didn’t trust you when you said that you were willing to give us a chance. I just know how much you love your children. And for what it's worth, I don't think you're just rationalizing.”

“Thanks. You don’t have to explain. I can understand about worrying and being scared. You’re important to me, too, and I am serious about giving this relationship a chance.” She considers it before she says, “Maybe you should come over for dinner this week. Say Friday? You can make pizza like you planned, and we can let Hugo and Rose get used to us.”

“Really? Yeah. I’d like that a lot. If you’re sure?” He smiles. “I’ll cook, and hopefully Rose will be more accepting by then. She might be upset that you didn’t tell her sooner, but she loves you, so she’ll get over it. I know she’ll be okay.”

“That’s probably part of it. She was upset when she thought that I’d told Hugo before her. Though she's still angry about Mel, too, and there she doesn't have the excuse of it being someone like you--younger, I mean, and someone she sees as as much her friend as mine. I don't quite know what to think.” She shakes her head and looks at the clock. “I really need to get back to work, but we should have lunch this week. I’d like to see you outside of work, even if it’s just lunch.”

“I should get back to work, too. My boss isn’t happy when I slack off,” he says as he stands up. “While I know you had a lapse and let us talk, I figure I better not push my luck and try to word-I-can’t-say-at-work you, but I would, if I could. For the record and all.”

“Yes, it’s good not to press your luck, especially when your boss is in a bad mood.” She smiles and nods down at the paperwork on her desk. “I’ll take care of this for you and arrange for the transfer in two weeks. I assume that Greg is open to the transfer, so it should go smoothly.”

“He is, and it should.” He blows her a kiss when he reaches the door to the office. “I hope your mood improves, Boss. Don’t forget to stop for lunch. I have to go back downstairs, so I won’t be here to make sure you eat. Promise you’ll get something, even if it’s just from the canteen?”

“Promise. Now get back to work and stop slacking off,” she says before she blows him a kiss. She shakes her head and smiles as she gets back to work, feeling a little better than she did before his visit.


	53. Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione speaks to a contact before meeting Ron for lunch

The note is delivered during a witness testimony. Hermione receives it from a clerk in the courtroom, and she scans it before focusing back on the trial. It’s already running late because the defense lost a witness earlier. Fortunately, they found her waiting outside the wrong courtroom, but, by that time, the Wizengamot had been ready for a brief recess, so everything got delayed. She had to send a message to Caroline to reschedule her afternoon appointments, though Ron was willing to delay his lunch so they could still meet.

The trial concludes shortly before one, which isn’t very late in the day save for the fact that she expected it to finish over an hour ago. It isn’t really that important since she still won, but she hopes the defense is more organized next time. When she leaves the courtroom, she doesn’t go straight to the staircase. Instead, she glances at the note she received earlier and makes her way to the public loos furthest away from the stairs.

When she reaches them, she sees the sign declaring that the men’s room is out of order. It’s an authentic looking sign, so she doubts anyone has even questioned it. It’s a nice touch, if nothing else. She looks around carefully before she enters the room. Her contact is leaning against the wash basin waiting for her.

“Sorry. The trial ran long,” she says as she shifts her files in her arms. “You know, you could have just come to my office. It probably smells nicer.”

Flint shrugs a broad shoulder. “This is better. Don’t want to be seen with you, ya know? ‘sides, smells like lemons in here. Better than most loos.”

“Why don’t you want to be seen?” He’s been one of her contacts since he got out of prison, and she can’t remember any other times that he’s gone to such trouble for secrecy. Meeting outside of her office doesn’t really compare to clandestine meetings in a loo, after all.

“Just don’t wanna,” Flint mutters. “People might see and realize I told ya something. Don’t want them to stop talking around me. It’s better when they forget I’m here, so I can listen.”

His reasoning makes sense, but she’s still not sure what makes this information different from most. When she met with him last time, it was in her office, and he didn’t seem to care. “Is it about Warrington?” she asks, deciding to analyze his motives later.

“Have something for you. Found out about it by chance, but thought it might mean something.” He removes a folded up piece of parchment from the pocket of his robe. “You didn’t get this information from me, if anyone asks. Can say you got it from Merlin in a dream for all I care, but don’t mention me at all.”

“Alright.” She takes the piece of parchment from him and puts down her files so she can open it. There are only two words written. “Astoria Greengrass? What’s this mean, Flint?”

“Dunno.” He’s lying. She can tell, but she isn’t sure if she should push him right now. He shifts nervously. “Could help. Remember, got it from Merlin.” Before she can ask him anything else, he leaves the room.

“Well, bugger.” She looks back down at the name and frowns. She knows of Daphne Greengrass, a former Slytherin that was in her school year, but Astoria doesn’t sound familiar. When the door opens, she looks up to see a young Auror look shocked at finding her in the men’s loo. She gets her files and smiles as she walks past him, acting as if there’s nothing wrong with her being in there.

On the way back to her office, she stops in to see Kevin. It looks like he’s just got back from lunch, so she’s glad she caught him. “What do you know about an Astoria Greengrass?” she asks after she shuts his door.

“Nice to see you, too, Boss.” He leans back in his chair and frowns. “Greengrass? Slytherin. Think she was a couple of years younger than us at Hogwarts.” He shakes his head. “Nothing really coming to mind. Haven’t seen the name anywhere as far as I can remember. Why?”

“Look into her for me. Be discreet. I don’t know why yet, but I need to find out more about her so I can figure out why.” She taps her thumb against her files. “Don’t mention her to anyone else right now. She might be nothing. I just want to make that determination for myself.”

“Which case?” he asks as he makes note of the name.

“Warrington.” She smiles wryly. “Hence the discretion and privacy right now. It could be another pointless lead. We’ve had dozens of those, it seems. Still, I want to know more.”

“Got it. I’ll see what I can find out for you. And don’t worry. Discretion is my middle name. It’s why I do so well dealing with those Pureblood types.”

“Really? And here I was thinking that Careful was your middle name. That’s what you told me a couple of months ago, at least.”

“What can I say? My mum liked a lot of names and couldn’t choose,” he says with a grin. “Oh, congrats on the case today. Heard it was a win.”

“It was, and the defense was a mess. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the disorganization hadn’t caused delays. After Marchbanks got done with him, though, I think he’ll be more prepared next time.” She opens the door. “I’ll be headed out to lunch now, but Caroline will know where I am if you need me.”

She leaves Kevin’s office and walks down the corridor to her own. Teddy’s desk is empty since he’s downstairs with Greg this afternoon. Soon, she’ll have to arrange for Susan to move into the outer office here once Teddy’s transfer is complete. She looks at Caroline. “Please let Ron know that I’m ready for lunch. Also, send a request down to HR to get any applications for the department from the last six weeks. I’d like to have those to begin reviewing by Monday. Did you book a table at Finnigan’s for me?”

“I did. I booked it for twelve, since you weren’t certain when the trial would finish, but I included a note to Mr. Finnigan telling him that you might be late due to work, as requested. Congratulations on the win, by the way. I’ll take care of alerting Auror Weasley,” Caroline tells her.

Hermione nods and starts to go to her office before she looks more closely at Caroline. “Is everything okay?” Caroline isn’t exactly ‘off’ today, but there’s something different.

Caroline blushes. “Everything’s fine, Boss.” She hesitates before she whispers, “I’m late. I’m not getting my hopes or anything, but your friend got me to thinking, and now I’m two weeks late. I don’t want to tell Howard yet, in case I’m wrong, but I went for a test during lunch.”

“Oh, that’s potentially good news.” She reaches over and squeezes Caroline’s shoulder. “I’ll think good thoughts for you. Let me know if you need time off to go to see your Healer.”

She continues on to her office and sits down, glad to be off her feet briefly. She slides off her pumps and flexes her feet before she starts working on organizing her files. She’s just finishing up when there’s a knock on the door. “Come in.”

Ron enters the office and rubs his belly. “I’m starving. Also, you should never just say ‘come in’ unless you know who is out there. Some evil dark wizard could have slaughtered the entire department and be standing out there with plans to get you next.”

“That’s an appetizing thought to follow a comment about starving,” she says dryly. “If it were ‘some evil dark wizard’, then the wards on my office would protect me at least long enough for me to use my wand and make him regret ever attempting to slaughter me. Torture is very good at making people regret pursuing dark paths of murder and mayhem.” She smiles sweetly as she stands up and gets her bag.

“Only you could discuss torture as if you were talking about the weather. It’s a wicked scary talent,” Ron confides. “And I am starving, slaughter or not.”

“If you were that hungry, we could have postponed our lunch, Ron. It’s not technically a working lunch, even if we’ll likely discuss work during it.”

“I think that I can wait an hour for food occasionally. Besides, I had an apple after Caroline sent me the note. Doesn’t mean that I’m not hungry, though. It just means that I love you more than food.” He sighs dramatically. “There aren’t many people who can say that, so feel special.”

“I do.” She nudges him in the ribs before they leave her office. “I’ll see you in an hour, Caroline.”

The lift is full of people when it arrives on their floor, but everyone is getting off, so it’s empty when they step on. Ron stretches and smiles. “Guess there’s one benefit to having a late lunch. Room to move on the lift is rare.” He does a stupid dance before he laughs. “See? Lack of food makes me loopy.”

“What’s your excuse the rest of the time?” She smirks as the doors open when they reach the Atrium. “Floo or walk?”

“Floo. We’ll probably miss the worst lunch crowd, but I’d rather get there soon to get our order put in, just in case. Did you book a table?”

She nods. “I asked Caroline to send a note to Seamus when I realized that I was going to be delayed.” They reach the nearest Floo, and she’s glad to see that there’s no queue for going out. The ones for arrivals are crowded, so she’s relieved they don’t have to wait for one of them. “I’ll see you there.”

After they get to Finnigan’s and are seated, she opens the menu and relaxes. It’s been a long week, both professionally and personally, and she’s glad it’s almost time for the weekend. She scans the choices and decides to get a bacon sandwich and chips. It’s not exactly healthy, but she’ll eat something healthier for dinner.

“Is it Friday yet?” Ron asks before he covers a yawn. “Or, actually, I need to be asking if it’s Saturday yet. Have to work Saturday morning. Stupid boss.”

“Yes, stupid Harry for making you work Saturday after you took Tuesday off.” She rolls her eyes.

“Stop being logical. I hate working weekends. The youngsters in the department should have to work weekends.” He nods emphatically before he leans back in his chair. “Course, I don’t have to work nights that often, so I guess I should just shut up, huh?”

“Might be a good idea, especially if you don’t want Harry to hear your loving adjective and make sure that you have the worst schedule in the department to teach you a lesson.”

“Point. He’s evil enough to do something like that. I call it your bad influence.”

“Thanks. Are you going to go order for us or are you going to make me do it?” Before he can answer, she smiles. “I want a bacon sandwich, chips, and pumpkin juice. It’s so nice of you to offer to order for us.”

“Offer my arse,” he mutters as he gets up and walks down to the bar to order. When he comes back, he puts a glass of pumpkin juice down in front of her before he sits. “Heard you won today. Harry wanted to be here to celebrate the win, as usual, but he’s swamped this week and couldn’t get away.”

“That’s alright. He can owe me lunch.” She takes a sip of her juice. “It’s been that kind of week for me, too. It’s been ridiculously busy, but I’m managing, so it could be worse. Still, it’ll be nice to have a weekend off.”

Ron takes a drink before he asks, “How’re things going with you and him?”

“Him?” She shakes her head. “He’s got a name, Ronald. Anyway, things are going well between us. Now, if you want to know how things are going with the children, that’s another story.”

“You told them?” He frowns. “Why didn’t I know about that?”

“Because I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about it?” She shrugs a shoulder. “I’d intended to wait for the right time, but I ended up telling them on Sunday, after they got home. Rose didn’t take it well, but Hugo didn’t seem too surprised. Rose is barely speaking to me, which is frustrating and awkward, but I don’t know what to do about it yet.”

“Ouch. She didn’t even go that far with me when I told her about Mel. Of course, I wrote her about it since she was away at school, so maybe that’s why.” He makes a face. “She’s got your stubbornness, doesn’t she?”

“Unfortunately. And your temper, which doesn’t make for a good combination. I guess I should be glad that she hasn’t had a fit, but I’d almost prefer that to the silent treatment.”

“Well, she used to have fits a lot when she was younger, but she’s getting older now. I can’t believe that she’s going to be a teenager on her next birthday. When did she grow up? I can still remember holding her wiggling little body at the hospital after she was born, and she’ll be grown up before I know it.”

“Hugo’s having a growth spurt, too. I have to get him new shoes, again, and I’ve noticed that his trousers are getting shorter. They’re both going to be at Hogwarts in a few weeks. Can you believe it? It seems impossible sometimes.”

“Let me know if you need extra money to cover the cost of his clothes,” Ron says. “You shouldn’t have to pay double because he inherited my genes and is growing so fast.” He nods. “Yeah, it’s going to be strange when they’re both gone. It was weird enough without Rose the last year, but having them both gone is going to be a tough adjustment. Worse for you, with the house and all.”

“I’ll need extra next month, probably. I’ll be taking them to get their books and supplies for school, and Hugo still needs to get his wand. I’ve intended to take him since his birthday, but he hasn’t been ready yet. He asks about it but then doesn’t want to go when I’ve suggested it. I’m hoping to take him by the end of the month, though, so he has time to get used to holding it before he goes to school.”

Ron snorts. “Get used to holding it? Yeah. I know you, Hermione. You had Rose practicing charms last summer, and I doubt Hugo will be any differently. It was driving Hopkirk crazy with all the notices and warnings.”

“It’s ridiculous that children can’t practice magic with parental guidance. I’m still working on amending that policy, but people are stubborn about reevaluating it. As for Hopkirk, she and I eventually came to an agreement.” She says no more because she knows that she bent rules to a point of nearly breaking when it came to those practice sessions. Still, it’s not like other parents don’t break them occasionally, too, especially when it comes to teaching children to fly before they go to school.

“I don’t want to know. Lalala. See, this is me not listening,” Ron says. “Oh, but if you’re taking him for his wand, I’ve got him for his broom. That’s an important day in the life of a child, and I want to help him pick the perfect one.”

“You can definitely handle the broom.” Their food arrives, and she picks up a chip. “Maybe Mel can get him a discount or something?”

“She might be able to. I don’t know if I’d ask, though. Don’t want her to think I’m using her for her connections.” Ron picks up his greasy burger and takes a bite. “I think Rose would get along well with her if she gives her a chance. They both like Quidditch, if nothing else.”

Ron talks with his mouth full, but she can understand him, which is definitely from years of practice. When he mentions Rose getting along with Mel, she nods. “It’s something in common, at least. I think maybe that it’s just hard on Rose that we’re moving on. I don’t know why, exactly, but I hope she’ll tell me if she ever starts talking to me again.”

“She will. She loves you a lot, after all.” Ron takes another bite of his burger. “You talk to Ginny yet or are things still weird there?”

“Still weird. Strained and awkward are also appropriate adjectives. She isn’t outright rude, but I can’t help but feel like she’s judging me.” She shrugs and takes a bite of her sandwich.

“Gin’s good at judging people. Funny how she’s become more like Mum than any of the rest of us. She even surpasses Percy, which is just sad.” He rolls his eyes. “When she found out that I was dating Mel, she went into some rant about Quidditch players sleeping around and how Mel was probably just after me because of my fame and a bunch of utter nonsense that was fucking insulting. I told her to bugger off, and she got over it eventually. Maybe you should do that, too.”

“Language,” she scolds. “Your mother is actually less judgmental now than she was when we were younger. Maybe it’s something that Ginny will grow out of, too. And trust me. If she ever confronts me in that kind of way, I’ll certainly respond firmly.”

“Yeah, Mum’s great. I think grandkids helped mellow her. Probably because she gets to sick back and spoil them while they drive the rest of us crazy.” He nods at her plate. “You gonna eat all those chips?”

“You have a plate of chips to finish before you start ogling mine,” she points out before she picks up a chip and eats it. He mutters under his breath before he starts eating again. She smiles and enjoys the rest of her lunch before she has to go back to work.


	54. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy comes over for dinner

There’s no need to feel so nervous. It’s just dinner, after all. In this case, logic isn’t helping Hermione relax. Maybe because it isn’t really _just_ dinner. Teddy will be over soon, and it’ll be the first dinner with the children since they found out about her relationship with him. Since her conversation with Ron yesterday, she feels a little better about Rose’s reaction, but she really dislikes the idea that she’s upsetting her daughter by being happy.

Of course, that’s not the proper way to look at things. Rose hasn’t accepted Mel yet, from what Ron said, and that’s been months instead of days. There’s a part of her that hoped Rose wouldn’t care about her dating Teddy despite not being happy about Mel. Unrealistic, probably, but an easy acceptance would have been preferable to being ignored for a week. Even Molly wasn’t able to help her figure out how to handle Rose. Or, at least, Molly claims to not understand Rose’s behavior, but Hermione isn’t completely sure that it’s true.

But maybe it's one of those sorts of child-rearing situations each parent has to work out for herself. Going into the teenage years, she supposes she's going to have to get used to another round of those.

“You look pretty, Mum,” Hugo says, interrupting her fretful musing.

“Thank you, Hugo. You look very handsome yourself,” she says as she smiles at him.

“Rose doesn’t want to come downstairs. She says she’s not hungry, but I think she’s lying because I heard her stomach growling and, besides, it's been ages since lunch,” Hugo announces. He sits down on the sofa next to her. “She’s so weird.”

“Don’t call your sister weird. I’ll go up and get her.” She stands up and glances at the clock. She has enough time to go upstairs before Teddy gets there, unless he’s early. She glances down at Hugo. “If Teddy arrives before I’m back, let him know that I’ll be down shortly.”

“I’ll tell him about my last letter from Dil, and I won’t tell him that Rose is being weird,” Hugo promises.

“Alright, that sounds like a good plan.” She smoothes down the skirt of her dress as she walks up the stairs, wondering what she should say to Rose. This isn’t a situation that was ever written about in the dozens of parenting books that she read when she first got pregnant. That was a long time ago, though, so maybe there’re new books out. She might have to try to stop by the bookshop over the weekend to research if Rose's behavior continues to be worrying.

When she reaches Rose’s bedroom, she knocks on the door lightly. “Go away, Hugo,” Rose calls out before she can say anything.

“It isn’t Hugo,” she says as she opens the door. “You need to come down for dinner, Rose.”

Rose looks up from the book she’s reading and frowns. “I’m not hungry.”

“If you’re ill, we’ll take you to St. Mungos,” Hermione tells her. “Otherwise, you need to come downstairs.”

“I don’t want to eat, Mum. Go eat with your _boy_ friend.”

"I'm not sure I like your tone, and I'd like to eat dinner with my children and my friend Teddy. That's going to involve you coming down to join the group."

"Why can't you just leave me alone? You don't need me for supper with family; you have Hugo for that." Rose is nearly managing to sound logical and detached, but there's a frustrating touch of petulance that lets Hermione know this isn't cold-blooded rationalism, even if Rose does usually follow her in her tendency to dissect things. 

“I can’t leave you alone because you’re my daughter, and I love you.” _Even when you’re being a brat and trying my patience._ She counts to ten before she says, “Ted will be here soon, and he’s going to make pizza for all of us. You like pizza, and it's something we can all enjoy together.”

“Calling him Ted doesn’t change the fact that he’s still Teddy,” Rose points out. "And you and Hugo can enjoy him and his bloody pizza. You don't need me for that, either."

Hermione considers whether to comment on the 'bloody,' but decides it's not worth prolonging the argument. "Still, that would be me having supper with my son and my friend, not my _children_ and my friend. And I'm calling him Ted because he asked me to; he may not have made the same request of you."

“I already told you, I’m not hungry.” Rose’s stomach growls before she can finish the denial. "And he just wants to sound older so you can feel better about…" She presses her lips together rather than continuing the sentence, though Hermione can imagine several unflattering descriptions of what she and Teddy might do, and from the look on Rose's face, she's imagined one or two, as well.

Hermione sighs and runs her fingers through her hair, leaving that issue alone for now. “It certainly sounds like you’re hungry, and I'd hate for you to go to bed without supper just because you're being stubborn. Rose, please give him a chance. It’s just dinner. You can sit there quietly if you have nothing to say.”

“Fine. I’ll go eat, but only because you’re making me.” Rose scowls as she closes her book and gets off her bed. She walks past Hermione without saying anything else.

The entire conversation is frustrating, but Hermione doesn’t know what else to do. If forcing Rose to go downstairs is what it takes to get her to be social, then that’s the best choice for now. She follows Rose back downstairs and can’t help but smile when she sees Teddy sitting next to Hugo on the sofa.

“Hello, ladies,” Teddy says, smiling as he stands up. “It’s nice to see you, Rose. Hermione, you look beautiful.”

“Why?” Rose asks. “If you wanted to see me, you could have come over any time since I got home from school. Oh, wait, you couldn’t because you and Mum were sneaking around and lying to us.”

“Your mother and I haven’t lied to you, Rose. I would have come over to visit before, but we’ve all been busy.”

“Busy dating my mother and lying?” Rose frowns when Hermione touches her shoulder.

“That’s enough,” she says firmly. She looks at Teddy and grimaces. “Sorry. We’re glad that you could come over tonight.”

“Teddy’s making pizza,” Hugo offers, looking at Rose as he speaks. “He said we can help him, if we want.”

“I don’t want.” Rose shrugs off Hermione’s hand before she walks over to the sofa and sits down. She opens a magazine and studies it closely.

“Well, I want to help.” Hugo walks over and leans against Hermione. He whispers, “You should have let her stay in her room.”

It’s probably not a sign of good parenting that she thinks he’s right. She doesn’t know what to do about Rose. She's always tried to treat Rose as she'd like to be treated herself on the theory that Rose is like her in many ways, and usually it’s worked out all right, but this time, it's only getting progressively less effective. 

The continuing situation is actually getting _worse_ than she expected, and the evening’s barely begun. The silence and being ignored might be better than the rudeness. It’s not going to matter whether she wants to continue the relationship or not because Teddy is going to decide it’s not worth putting up with Rose’s attitude.

“I’d appreciate the help, Hugo,” Teddy says as he steps closer. She feels his hand on the small of her back and resists the impulse to hug him. “Why don’t we go get dinner started?”

“Dinner. Right. That’s good.” She smiles wryly before she ruffles Hugo’s hair. “Can you go get the pizza pan out for us?”

“Yes, Mum.” Hugo smiles. “C’mon, Teddy. I’m _starving_.”

“He sounds like his father,” she murmurs to no one in particular, considering how Hugo still sounds like Ron and Rose has apparently stopped making sense to her. She shakes her head as she watches Teddy follow him out of the room and takes one last look at Rose, sighing. “I wish you’d try to give him a chance, Rose. It’s difficult to treat you like an adult when you behave like a child. We’ll be in the kitchen if you decide to join us.” She waits for a moment, but Rose just flips a page of the magazine, so she leaves the sitting room and goes to the kitchen.

When she gets there, she reaches for an apron but a hand grips her wrist before she can pick it up. She glances up at Teddy and arches a brow. He smiles and shakes his head. “That doesn’t work on me, Hermione,” he informs her. “You look much too pretty tonight to cook. No aprons for you. Instead, you can sit down and watch us menfolk do the cooking. Right, Hugo?”

Hugo laughs. “Yeah. No cooking for Mum tonight, like we planned.”

“Planned?” She looks from one to the other before focusing on Teddy. “A plan that you actually didn’t tell me about in advance?”

Teddy smirks. “I’m getting better at the scheming thing, I guess.” He leans down and kisses her forehead lightly as he strokes her back. “Just relax tonight, okay? I know you’ve had a rough week, both at work and obviously here.”

She considers protesting, but it has been a difficult week, so she decides to go ahead and agree. “Fine. You’ve convinced me. I’ll just sit and watch.”

After she sits down, Teddy gets a glass down from the cabinet and pours wine. “A little refreshment, Madam. And now, some music.” He flicks his wand and the radio turns on. “Voila. Please, keep your applause for after the meal. The pizza will be just that good.”

“Teddy, I’ve got the pan. What next?” Hugo asks.

While Teddy begins to go through the recipe with Hugo, she sips her wine and listens to the music. It’s hard to relax when her daughter is sulking in the other room. When she notices Hugo looking at her worriedly, she forces a smile and that seems to relax him. Teddy, however, doesn’t look so easily convinced.

“They’re so loud that I can’t even read.”

She looks over at Rose, who is leaning against the table and glaring at Teddy and Hugo. “They’re having fun,” she says simply. It seems that anything she says tonight is taken the wrong way by Rose, so she doesn’t want to take any chances.

“Hmph.” Rose scowls at her. “They’re making a mess. Why aren’t you scolding them? You hate when flour spills on the floor. You and Daddy fought when he broke the flour jar that day. Why aren’t you yelling at Teddy?”

“I’m not scolding them because they’ll clean up when they’re finished,” she explains. “As for the argument with your father, it wasn’t about him breaking the jar and spilling flour. That was probably the last thing it was about.”

“I heard it. You were upset about him making a mess, and he yelled about everything having to be exact in your kitchen. I remember it, Mum. It was before he left.” Rose looks at the floor and holds her magazine tightly.

She remembers it, too. She remembers all the silly arguments that happened during those final months of her marriage to Ron. The warning signs that they’d finally acknowledged, that had let them work out some of their frustration and disappointment over a failed relationship. Their separation had been amicable, and they were certainly great friends again now, but it hadn’t been pleasant and perfect near the end of that phase of the relationship. 

If it had been, they probably would have stayed together out of convenience. Of course, she can’t tell Rose all that. Rose is only twelve, and she wouldn’t understand. Hermione didn’t even understand it at the time. "I know you will hate this sentence, and I don't blame you for that, but it's unfortunately true: it is, and was, a lot more complicated than that, but I don't think you'd understand until you're older. Sorry."

Rose scowls, but before they can continue the conversation, Hugo calls out, “Look, Mum. We’ve got the crust done. Rose, do you wanna help? We’re putting stuff on it now.”

“Help would be appreciated, Rose,” Teddy offers. His hair has faded from a vivid orange to a pale shade since she last looked. He nods at the various things lining the counter. “You can put whatever you want on them. We have two, so there can be variety.”

Rose looks up, and Hermione’s surprised when she puts the magazine down and goes to the counter. “Did you make pizza for Victoire?” Rose asks Teddy as she picks up a spoon and spreads sauce over one of the pizza crusts.

Teddy looks up at Hermione before he says, “Yes, I did.”

“Why aren’t you making it for her now?” Rose frowns at him. Hermione takes a sip of her wine and wishes that Rose would stop being so stubborn and would try to enjoy herself.

“Because I’m here with you.” Teddy looks confused as he begins to sprinkle cheese onto the pizza in front of Hugo.

“He’s making it for us, silly,” Hugo says as he help with the cheese.

“Hugo, don’t insult your sister,” she warns as she slips off her shoes and stretches her feet.

“That’s not what I meant,” Rose says in a tone that sounds very annoyed. “Why did you break up with Victoire and start dating our mum?”

Teddy puts the container of cheese down and focuses on Rose. “I’m dating your mother because I care about her. I was lucky enough that she said yes when I asked her out. Victoire has nothing to do with my relationship with your mother, nor does Vic care that I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah? Well, what happens to my mum with you break up with her because you want someone else? She’s not Victoire, and she _will_ care,” Rose tells him. “My mum doesn’t need you. She’s happy with us. I’ve helped her since Daddy left. You didn’t. We don’t want you here. Just go home.”

“I want him here,” Hugo says quietly. He looks at Rose and then at Hermione. “You want him here, too, don’t you, Mum? Rose is wrong, isn’t she?”

“Hugo, it’s alright. Your sister is just concerned because this is new and she doesn't understand it.” Teddy reaches over and ruffles Hugo’s hair.

“It’s not alright!” Rose throws the spoon on the floor in a sudden and completely surprising move and shakes her head. “And I'm not a child. I understand fine. Mum doesn’t need you! I hate you. Go home and leave our mum alone!”

“Rose, stop it.” Hermione stands up and rubs the back of her neck, trying to ignore the spatter of tomato sauce and focus on the apparent replacement by aliens of her usually-mature daughter. “Apologize to Teddy and calm down.”

“No. I won’t. I’m not sorry. He shouldn’t be here.” Rose stomps her foot and looks like she’s about to start crying.

“Hermione, it’s okay. She doesn’t have to--“

“Yes, she does,” she interrupts Teddy before he can finish. “Her behavior tonight is rude and disrespectful.” She looks at Rose. “I know that you’re having trouble accepting my relationship with Ted, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to have a tantrum and insult him.”

Rose tilts her chin in a stubborn manner. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“Rose, apologize then go to your room,” she says firmly. Her attempts at being understanding and giving Rose space are through for now. “If you can’t be polite to our guest, then you’ll stay in your room.”

“It’s not my fault! You made me come down for dinner!” Rose stomps her foot again and wipes her eyes angrily. “I’m not sorry. I won’t say I am, and you can’t make me!”

Before Hermione can reply, Rose runs past her and leaves the kitchen. She sits down and cups her forehead in her hands as she hears footsteps thumping up the stairs, not at all sure what to do or say. Teddy and Hugo are quiet, and she feels torn between anger at Rose’s behavior and disgust with herself for being such a terrible mother. What can she possibly do to make this situation better?

“It’s okay, Mum. Don’t cry,” Hugo says softly. 

She feels a hand on her back and turns her upper body so she can rest her head against Teddy’s belly. “Hugo’s right. It’ll be okay,” Teddy murmurs as he brushes his fingers through her hair in a soothing manner. "At least she's not like Harry, right? I've heard stories about what happened when _he_ got really pissed off at that age."

“Language,” she scolds before she closes her eyes and feels at least the tug of a smile. "True. Spattered sauce on the floor is nothing like shattered windows."

“Do you want me to go talk to her? Or do you want me to leave? I'm not suggesting I want out, just saying if that's easiest for you.”

“No,” she says, shifting so that she can look up at him. “Don’t go. It’s probably best if you don’t try to speak with her right now, either. She has Ron’s temper, unfortunately. It’s better to give her space right now. I’ll take her something to eat later, once the pizza’s done.”

“I can take it to her,” Hugo offers. “She yells at me a lot anyway.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” she tells him with a look of appreciation before she turns back to Teddy. He’s going to wish that he’d never asked her to dinner. There’s an insecure part of her that’s being very vocal in believing that he’s going to think the drama is too much and end things even though he's just said he's not. She does her best to ignore that voice right now, but can't help apologizing again. “Sorry about all that.”

“Hey, none of that. It’s fine. Well, not fine because I hate that it’s my fault you’re hurting right now, but I’m not running away. Got it?” He looks at her intently until she nods. When she does, he smiles. “Hugo, look behind you for a minute,” he says before he leans down and gives her a quick kiss on the mouth.

“Eeew. Kissing is yuck,” Hugo mutters before he makes a gagging noise.

“That’s why I told you not to look,” Teddy reminds him. “Next time, listen to me.”

She lets him go and watches him rejoin Hugo. They go back to work on the pizzas, but the relaxed atmosphere from earlier is definitely gone now. She feels even more tense and anxious than before, and she doubts that Teddy and Hugo feel much better, though they're both being deliberately absurd, obviously to cheer her, which isn't really working except in that she can appreciate the effort. 

Finally, she sips at her wine again and sternly tells her shoulders to drop away from her ears. Things are a mess, but she’s going to try to focus on enjoying the meal and spending time with Teddy and Hugo before she tries to figure out how to make things better with Rose.


	55. Transgression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has an unexpectedly busy Saturday morning

It’s cool this morning. There’s a chill in the air that hasn’t been present recently. It’s early, though, so that might be part of it. Hermione doesn’t usually go outside before breakfast to sit in the garden because weekdays are busy from the time she wakes up until she takes the children to the Burrow. Weekends are usually productive, since she likes to get things done early and have time to relax later in the day.

Today, however, she doesn’t feel productive at all. She wasn’t able to sleep last night, and she almost wishes that she had let Teddy stay over because she probably would have been able to get some rest. Considering everything that happened with Rose earlier in the evening, she hadn’t thought it was a good idea, so he went home after Hugo went to bed. It wouldn’t have been a wise decision, she knows, but it would have been nice to have him sleeping beside her even if they hadn't done anything else.

As it is, she feels lethargic and tense. She has a cup of coffee, which helps some, and it’s a lovely morning, even with the chill making her feet cold, but she can’t relax and enjoy it. Rose didn't leave her room after her childish behavior in the kitchen, and Hermione’s not sure what to do about her. Her outburst was unexpected, in all honesty, so it’s difficult to figure out the way to approach her; it's never really come up before. It wasn't news that Rose hadn’t taken the idea of her dating Teddy well, but based on past behavior, she didn’t expect her to stomp around and throw things. Rose hadn’t even behaved this immaturely when she was a toddler.

Teddy's told her more than once that Rose is dealing with a lot, so she shouldn’t blame herself, but it’s hard not to place the fault on her own shoulders. She wants her children to be happy, after all. Is it so wrong that she wants to be happy, too? She knows that her relationship with Teddy isn’t exactly typical, and she knows that there are going to be problems with friends and strangers judging them, but she’s willing to face all that because she enjoys being with him. It might not last once they’re out in the open and there’s pressure from various sources, yet she’s finally willing to take that chance because she knows that a few weeks or months with Teddy are better than living in regret because she didn’t try.

The sight of an unfamiliar owl pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn’t often get post at home that isn’t from a friend or family, so she’s immediately suspicious. The owl lands on the chair next to hers, and she studies it as it holds out its leg. It’s not a common owl from the post office, which means it must be a privately owned owl. Before she accepts the scroll, she performs a security check on the parchment. The last thing she needs is to find herself cursed by a disgruntled opponent in the courts or someone with a grudge.

Once she’s certain it's safe, she summons a few treats and exchanges them for the scroll. The owl doesn’t seem particularly fond of her discount treats, but it’s all she has, so it can eat or go away for all she cares. Bloody finicky animal. It finally deigns to eat what she's offered while she unrolls the scroll and begins to read. She doesn’t get very far into the brief note before she glances at the signature and then at the house. Rose’s window faces the garden, but Hermione can’t see anything because the drapes are closed.

She finishes reading the note and gets to her feet quickly, startling the owl in mid-bite. “Sorry,” she mutters at the bird as she hurries inside. She goes upstairs and stops when she reaches Rose’s door. After taking a moment to breathe and calm her nerves, she knocks lightly. There’s no answer. She knocks again, a little louder. There’s still no answer.

Bloody hell. She tightens her grip on the parchment in her hand and opens the door. Rose’s bed is unmade, and she’s nowhere to be seen. Bugger it all. The letter isn’t some twisted joke. She curses under her breath as she goes to her bedroom to put socks and shoes on, then goes downstairs. The initial plan is to Floo Ron to see if he’ll stay with Hugo while she goes to collect Rose. It’s only after she has a handful of Floo powder that she remembers him telling her that he had to work today.

With Ron busy, that leaves Harry or Teddy. She decides to try Harry first, since coming back with Rose and having her find Teddy here seems a recipe for disaster. It’s pretty early, but maybe he’ll be up by now. She tosses in the powder and then sticks her head through. “Harry? Are you around?” she calls out, trying not to be too loud in case the kids are still asleep. She’s doing her best to avoid having to wake up Hugo, after all, so she tries to be considerate. “Harry?”

“He’s out.” Ginny enters the room and leans against the sofa. “He got the kids up early this morning for a Daddy Day. Breakfast, flying, and possibly the zoo.”

“Fuck,” she mutters. “Alright. I guess I’ll try someone else. Thank you.”

She straightens up and reaches for another handful of powder so she can try Teddy. He’ll want to help, but she hopes that she doesn’t disturb him. She’s about to toss it in when she hears the sound of Apparition behind her. It startles her, and she hits her head on the fireplace as she turns to see who is there, then feels the scrape of the stone against her cheek when she unsteadily overcorrects. Finally, she gets herself together and stands up.

“Ouch,” Ginny says, grimacing slightly as she shifts from one foot to the other. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t want to try to Floo if you were using it.”

“It’s fine.” It really isn’t because that really hurt, but she’s got too much on her mind right now to care.

“What’s wrong? Why did you need Harry?” Ginny frowns. “You cursed, and, well, I got worried. You don’t usually curse.”

“Did I?” She sighs and rubs her head. “Rose is gone. She must have snuck out this morning when I was outside because I’d have heard the Floo otherwise.”

“Gone? What?” Ginny looks worried. “Do you need help finding her? What happened, Hermione?”

“I know where she is. I got an owl telling me, but Hugo’s asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him up and worry him about this. Ron’s working today, so I thought of asking Harry.” She stands up and puts the Floo powder back in the tin. “As for what happened, I don’t know. I mean, I _do_ know, but I don’t.”

Ginny looks at her like she’s barking mad, and maybe she is because she’s not even making sense to herself right now. Ginny looks around the room before she focuses back on Hermione. “I can stay here, if you want. Harry thinks that I enjoy when he does the Daddy Days because it gives me some time alone, but I really don’t unless I’ve got something to do. Today, I don’t have anything yet.”

“Really? Are you sure?” She’s surprised by Ginny’s offer, considering how awkward things have been between them lately. 

“I’m sure,” Ginny says firmly. “Whatever else might happen, you’re my sister even if paperwork says you’re not anymore.”

“Thank you.” She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Rose isn’t reacting well to the news of my relationship with Teddy. She was upset last night, and I guess she decided that sneaking out today was the best way to deal with it. I don’t know. It’s a mess, I suppose.”

“At least you know where she is, so you can go get her,” Ginny tells her. “I’ll stay here with Hugo, so don’t worry about that.”

She’s grateful for no ‘I told you it was wrong’ or ‘what did you expect by shagging someone so young’ remarks from Ginny. That’s really the last thing she needs right now. “Thank you,” she says again before she tosses in Floo powder. When she steps through, she finds herself in a formal sitting room. The furniture looks very uncomfortable, and she wonders if anyone has ever even used it.

“You look horrible, Granger,” a voice drawls from beside her.

She turns and schools her expression before she can glare. This isn’t the time for that. “Good morning, Malfoy. Where’s my daughter?”

“Your daughter is in the back gardens with Scorpius.” He arches a brow. “I’ll take you there in a moment. First, come with me.”

“That’s alright. I think I can find the gardens,” she says dryly. She has no interest in being social right now with anyone, much less Malfoy. Besides, he’s old enough to ask politely instead of giving orders.

“You’re unfamiliar with the property, and, for all you know, there are curses set up to prevent strangers from wandering the premises alone,” he points out smugly. “I neither deny nor confirm the existence of said curses, of course.”

“While I appreciate you letting me know that Rose is here, I really just want to see her.” She’s not in the mood for any of this, especially not when she’s still trying to process everything. It’s all happened so fast, really, and she hasn’t had time to analyze it. All she knows is that Rose snuck out and that Malfoy had the decency to let her know she was here.

“If it were my son, I’d feel the same,” he admits. “However, you really are a mess. I have something for the bruise in my office, so don’t make me regret actually offering assistance during a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Bruise?” She reaches up and rubs her head where she hit the fireplace, then remembers the scrape on her cheek and touches it lightly. Ouch.. “Right. Okay.”

“This way.” He leads her down the corridor to his office. “I’ve never known of a woman to use Floo powder to enhance a hairdo but perhaps you’re ahead of a trend?”

“Very funny,” she mutters as she runs her fingers through her hair. She enters after him and looks around curiously. It isn’t what she expects, not that she’s ever given any thought to what Malfoy’s office looks like. The shelves are full of books, there are broomsticks balanced against a table, paperwork is neatly stacked in piles on the desk, and there’s a large window with a nice view of a tree outside.

“Perhaps you can explain to me why your daughter decided that half-seven on a Saturday morning was a good time for an unplanned visit with my son,” he says as he opens a drawer in the desk and removes a jar of healing paste. “I caught her sneaking around upstairs trying to find his room.”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t realized that she’d left the house until I received your note.” She’s reluctant to admit that because it must make her sound like a terrible parent. She takes the jar from him and opens it. “I know that they’re friends, but that doesn’t excuse her behavior.”

“I still can’t believe that my son is friends with a Weasley,” he murmurs as he glares at her momentarily like it’s her fault their children are friendly. “Unfortunately, I can’t place the blame squarely on your daughter’s shoulders. Scorpius was expecting her, and it seems that they exchanged owls several times this morning when he should have been sleeping. I suppose that there’s a minute possibility that he invited her over, but I prefer to think that she acted recklessly because it’s a much more believable explanation, considering her parents.”

“I don’t really think it matters,” she tells him as she hands him the jar back. “She shouldn’t have left without telling me, and your son shouldn’t have invited company over without permission. The responsibility is shared at the moment, so perhaps that’s a good place to leave the analysis for now.”

Malfoy shrugs a shoulder. “Perhaps. When I agreed to my son’s request to have your home added to our Floo network permissions, I had no idea it would open up the possibility of visits at odd hours. If I had, well, I still would have agreed because I rarely refuse him anything,” he confesses with a frown. “I’m pleased that he has a couple of good friends, in all honesty, even if one’s a Weasley and the other’s Corner’s son, but you’re not to tell him that. I refuse to acknowledge ‘friendship’ until he uses the word himself. He seems to like having a rival.”

“I won’t tell him,” she agrees. She walks over to look in the mirror and ignores it’s commentary as she fixes her hair somewhat. When she finishes, she turns back to Malfoy. “Will you take me to Rose now, please?”

“Be careful of the table. If you break something, you’re compensating me,” he informs her as she steps around the table and various items leaning against it. She knocks her foot into a broom when he speaks, but she catches it before it falls to the ground. Fortunately, he doesn’t say anything about her being clumsy or she might have had to hex him. Instead, he motions to the right. “The gardens are this way. My wife is out there with them, likely plying them with baked items and beverages. She thinks Scorpius is too skinny, and she was muttering the same thing about your daughter.”

“Rose is tall for her age.” She finds it strange to be walking around Malfoy’s home discussing Rose, and she would likely think that this was just some twisted dream if she didn’t know better. She glances at Malfoy as they walk. “Your home is very nice.”

“It isn’t the Manor, but it suits us. Colette is very talented at decorating.” He smirks slightly. “The formal sitting room was designed by my mother, but Colette had control over the rest of the house.”

“Ah. That explains it.” She hadn’t been impressed with the uninviting, expensive furnishings but the rest of the house that she’s seen is surprisingly warm and comfortable.

“Colette would be very angry if I allowed anyone to assume that she was responsible for that room. However, it proves to be impressive for those who do not have permission to go beyond its four walls, which is the point.”

They reach a door that opens up onto a courtyard. She sees Colette sitting at a table drinking a glass of juice, but she doesn’t see Rose or Scorpius anywhere. When they approach, she smiles. “Good morning, Colette.” While she still has some issues with Malfoy, she has a fondness for his wife and has enjoyed working with her in the past.

“’ello, ‘ermione. Would you like something to eat?” Colette asks as she motions to the various choices on the table.

“No, thank you. I’m here to get Rose.”

“Where are the children?” Malfoy looks around before he points. “Ah, nevermind. I see them.”

She looks across the manicured hedges and rows of flowers to see Rose sitting on a bench by a fountain. Scorpius is sitting on the ground beside the bench looking up at her as they talk. Rose appears to be upset, and she feels a knot in her belly as she wonders what to say that won’t just make things worse.

“You faced dark wizards intent on destroying the world. I think you can handle your daughter, Granger,” Malfoy says dryly before he moves past her and sits down next to his wife. “Tell my son that I need him. By the time he gets here, I’ll think of something.”

“Alright.” She walks along the path until she reaches the fountain. Scorpius sees her first and stands up.

“Morning, Mrs. Weasley.” He looks at Rose quickly then back at her.

“Good morning, Scorpius. Your father needs you,” she says, waiting until he leaves before she goes and sits on the bench next to Rose.

“Are you angry?” Rose asks softly. Hermione can feel her looking at her, but she keeps her attention focused on the fountain for now.

“That’s a loaded question, Rose. Am I angry about last night? Or am I angry that you snuck out without telling me today?”

“I—I’m sorry.” Rose sighs and shifts. “I was going to leave you a note today, but I didn’t think about it when I saw you outside. I just wanted to go before you were inside cause you’d have heard the Floo. I needed to talk to someone.”

“You could talk to me or your father.”

“I know, but not about everything. I needed a friend who wasn’t part of everything.” Rose looks at her. "You're part of everything, and it feels like Dad is, too, even if that doesn't make very much sense."

"The way things feel doesn't always make sense, no."

"Either way, I didn't want to talk to either of you. And Hugo's too little."

"He's only a year younger than your friend," Hermione points out. "Give or take a bit."

"But Scorpius has parents."

Hermione lifts a brow. "I'm nearly sure Hugo has parents, too."

"No, I mean, that he sometimes--never mind. It's stupid. Only, it seemed like he might understand more."

"Do you suppose he might have understood equally well over lunch and with parental awareness?"

Rose looks at her feet. "Possibly."

"I expect the odds approach 100%."

“I know. It's just… I was embarrassed about how I acted last night. It was stupid. I don’t know why I did. I just got so—“ She trails off and looks away so Hermione can't see her face at all, just her hair lit up by the sun. “I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean all those things I said. I don’t hate you or Daddy or Teddy.”

“I know you don’t, Rose.” She waits to see if Rose will look back at her, but she doesn't, so she moves her arm around her shoulders and pulls her close anyway. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I was just scared, so I kept putting it off.”

“You’re never scared,” Rose says. She leans against Hermione and sighs again. “Even when Daddy left us, you weren’t. You were sad, though. I remember that. And when Daddy started to date that woman, it meant that you were alone but he wasn’t. I was so angry at him. I thought that you needed me, but you didn’t because you had Teddy. Scorpius told me that I was jealous, but that’s silly.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get scared.” She shakes her head and hugs Rose closer to her. "Everyone gets scared. The hard thing about being an adult is doing things even when they're scary, because they're still scary, just necessary."

"Oh. But then you were scared and didn't tell us--"

"I know. And see how well that turned out? It was necessary, and I know better. But you don't need to be worried about whether you're needed. I’ll always need you and Hugo. You’re my children, and no one will ever replace you.” She looks down at Rose. “Your father and I still love each other, Rose. Even if we’re divorced and we’re no longer in love, we do care about one another. You shouldn’t blame either of us for moving on with our lives. We wouldn’t have got back together regardless of whether he started dating Mel or I became involved with Ted.”

“I know that, Mum. It’s just hard. That—Mel isn’t so bad, but I’m not used to Daddy being with anyone but you.” Rose bites her lip, finally looking back at Hermione. “It’s weird, you dating Teddy like that. He used to play with us when we were little, and he was dating Victoire for years. Now, he’s dating you, and that’s so strange. He’s not old like you and Daddy.”

“No, he’s not as old as we are,” she agrees quietly. “Though I'd like to note that neither of us is exactly hobbling about on a crutch yet. Still, I know it’s difficult, and I know it might not make sense. He makes me happy, though. Weird or not, that’s how it is.”

Rose frowns and looks at the fountain. “What if he hurts you like Daddy did? What if he leaves and you’re sad all the time?”

“Then I’ll be sad for a while before I stop being sad,” she says. “That’s part of life, Rose. Sometimes you do things that don’t work out, but sometimes they do. What if you try out for Quidditch and don’t make it?”

“I’d be upset, but I’d practice harder and try again.” Rose glances up at her. “That’s what you mean, isn’t it? You’re dating Teddy is like my trying out for the team. It might not go well, but I can’t imagine not at least trying.”

“Sort of like that, yes. Only, it’s much more complicated when it comes to a relationship.”

“I was really rude to him last night.” Rose grimaces. “He probably thinks I hate him. I don’t, not really. I just don’t want him to take you away or to make you sad again.”

“He doesn’t think that you hate him.” She looks at Rose steadily. “You don’t have to worry about anyone taking me away, understood? As for me being sad, you can’t blame Teddy for something that hasn’t happened yet.”

Rose nods and gives her a hug. “I love you, Mum. I’m sorry.”

“I love you, too,” she says, kissing the top of Rose’s head before she pulls back. “However, you’re on restriction for what you did this morning. Two weeks without your broom or Floo calls. I’ll allow you to write your friends, but that’s it.”

“But Mum! I have to practice. How am I going to make the team if I don’t keep to my practice schedule?”

“You should have thought about that before you snuck out and came over to your friend’s house without permission. If you push me, I won’t let you send owls, either. You disturbed the Malfoys, regardless of whether Scorpius invited you or not, and you scared me when I realized that you weren’t home.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Rose sighs. “Fine. Two weeks.”

“We need to get home and let the Malfoys enjoy their breakfast in peace. Aunt Ginny is over with Hugo, and I doubt she wants to spend all morning waiting.” She stands up and gives Rose a hug. “Now, let’s go thank Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy for their hospitality, and you can apologize for disturbing them.”

Rose looks like she might protest but finally just nods and walks ahead of Hermione to the courtyard. After Rose apologizes and they say their thank yous, they go back into the house to use the Floo to go home. There are still some things that need resolved with Rose, but the talk in the garden was a good start. She hopes that it means Rose will be more open to the idea of her relationship with Teddy, even if it might take time to accept it.

Before she can follow Rose through the Floo to go home, Malfoy touches her shoulder. She looks at him curiously. “I’m sorry for the disturbance to your morning routine,” she says, deciding that she owes him an apology, too.

“It seems to have been resolved, and I don’t foresee there being a problem of repeat unwarned visits in the future.” He arches a brow and smirks slightly. “Never would have thought you’d be the type to like them so young, Granger. Barely out of his teens, even. I must say, it surprises me.”

Great. It appears that Scorpius must have shared the reason behind Rose’s visit. “Oddly enough, he’s more mature than most people my age,” she says pointedly, resisting the urge to press her palm to her forehead.

“He’s also my cousin,” Malfoy says as he loses the smirk and frowns. “I don’t have much family left in the world, so I protect what I do have. If I find out that you’ve simply been playing with him or using him, there will be consequences. Understood?”

It’s tempting to challenge him for threatening her. However, considering the fact that Teddy got beat up by Ron during the threatening talk, she thinks she can handle Malfoy. “Understood.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish my breakfast since you can see yourself home from here.” He nods politely and leaves the room.

After he’s gone, she rubs the back of her neck and feels a ball of tension that is likely to cause a headache any moment now. There’ll be explanations to Ginny when she gets home, and that’ll probably lead to questions from Harry and a visit from Ron once he finds out, too. She also wants to write Teddy to let him know what’s happened, and she needs to talk to Rose more to see how things stand. She shakes her head before she tosses in Floo powder and goes home. So much for a relaxing Saturday.


	56. Congregation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch with the boys on Monday

“I’ll have you know that I had to call in a major favor in order to get this information,” Kevin announces as he enters the office.

“Noted,” Hermione tells him as she reaches for the thin file. “Your willingness to utilize private sources in order to gain information for a case will be remembered when it’s time for your review.”

“Brilliant.” Kevin nods at the file. “I’m not really sure how any of that ties in with Warrington, but I got what information that I could. Pureblood families are particularly close-lipped when it comes to anything scandalous, as you know.”

“Thanks, Kevin. I appreciate the effort.” He leaves the office, and she glances through the information that he’s gathered on Astoria Greengrass. There isn’t a lot there. Frustratingly, it mostly gives her more questions without providing any definite answers. She wishes that Flint had been more specific as to what she should be looking for, but she supposes that she should be glad she got a name at all.

She has a little free time in her schedule before lunch, so she gets the files for the Warrington case and opens them all on the floor by her desk. Once she has them arranged, she sits back on her heels and studies them. There are lots of pieces, some of them complete, but unrelated, and the rest missing critical bits that would give them a solid lead. She wants to avoid having to use the children to testify because that would make them suffer through everything again, so she needs enough to get a conviction without them.

As a last resort, if she can't do it any other way, she'll use them and then take their memories. That’s probably better for them in some ways anyway, but she does her best to win cases without having to delve into issues of memory. It’s a personal preference after everything with her parents, yet she also feels that it’s more challenging to win a case based on merit without pensieve testimony, whether it be from victims or the perpetrator, though she doesn’t refuse when they’re voluntarily offered. This case might be an exception to her general rule, since she knows the memories of Warrington will be enough to seal his fate if it comes to that. 

The Wizengamot might not approve such an intrusive practice without enough evidence to give them reason, though. Right now, they have everything found in his home, but Corner hasn’t been able to directly link Warrington to any of the children. There was no semen or DNA left, and the blood belonged to the victims. Hermione frowns as she studies the paperwork in front of her. There’s got to be something she’s missing. No one could buy, torture and murder children while appearing sane and normal to everyone around them. She just can’t fathom it, even if she’s studied psychology during her years of training and knows it can happen.

As she studies the case, she reaches for a pen and clean piece of parchment. She begins to compile her notes and makes new flowcharts of information to join the various others that she’s created in the last few weeks regarding this case. It helps to combine various thoughts, and she taps her pen against the floor as she frowns at the parchment. Pieces of one of the puzzles are coming together, but she’s still missing information. She bites her lip and reaches for another sheet of parchment. If her suspicions are correct, then she might be able to resolve one area of the case.

When she realizes that it’s almost time for lunch, she straightens up her files and puts them back on her desk. She finishes the note that she’s writing and prepares it for the post before she gets her bag. She’s having lunch with Teddy, Harry and Ron today, which will likely require her attention, so she’ll focus back on Warrington when she returns to her office.

“Caroline, send this out for me on your way to lunch please,” she says as she enters the outer office. She’s probably going to need Caroline to rearrange part of her schedule tomorrow, but she won’t know what time until she receives a reply, so she’ll deal with that later. She thinks for a minute about whether there isn’t anything else that needs mentioning, but there's not, so she walks over to Teddy’s desk. “If you’re ready for lunch, we can go meet the boys in their offices. Closer to the lifts and all.”

“Yeah, I’m ready, Boss. Let me just finish this notation,” Teddy says as he glances up and smiles before he looks back at his desk. It doesn’t take long before he stands and stretches. “Working lunch?”

“Not this time. We’ll probably discuss work at some point, but it’s mostly a delayed celebration from my winning the case last week. Harry said to invite you along,” she tells him as they leave.

“Ah, so Harry’s the one who wants me here.” He nudges her side. “Should I be offended?”

“Not unless you’re feeling overly dramatic. After the weekend I had, feel free to decline the invitation and remain here if you are because I don’t need any more drama in my life right now,” she murmurs.

“Don’t worry. I’m a drama free zone,” he promises. “At least, I am right now. I won’t say always since I wouldn’t want to lie to you.”

“That’s commendable, and I appreciate it.” She smiles slightly as they reach Harry’s office. She nods politely at his secretary before she goes to the open door and knocks on the frame. “Oi! You ready for lunch or not?”

“Oi?” Harry looks up from a large file and shakes his head. “Don’t say that again. It sounds girly when you say it.” He stands and holds up his wand quickly. “See? Look at how fast my reflexes are. Ready to defend myself from any hex you send my way.”

“You’re lucky that I’m not in a foul mood or I’d have shown you how fast I can be when hexing a sexist git who tosses around the word ‘girly’ like it’s an insult,” she muses. “Of course, there’s always the possibility that I’ll remember your remark and decide to reprimand you via a nice hex at a later date.”

“I hate when you do that,” Harry mutters as he closes the file on his desk. “Now, I’m going to be looking over my shoulder for days until I convince myself that you’ve forgotten about it.”

“I never forget, Potter,” she says ominously before she winks at Teddy. Looking back at Harry, she smiles. “Is Ron meeting us here?”

“No, at Finnigan’s. He’s out of the office working a case, so it’s easier for him to meet us there,” Harry explains. “Hello, Godson. Planning to do some heavy reading at lunch?”

“Afternoon, Godpapa.” Teddy reaches up and removes his reading spectacles. “Forgot I still had those on. My slave driver of a boss is making me review files this week, so these help me read the messy handwriting of the Aurors.”

“You’re reviewing files so that your slave driver of a boss has a current summary of what you’ve been working on and will be able to reassign the cases before you transfer.” Hermione leads them to the lifts and pushes the button.

“Oh, that’s right. This is your last week up here, isn’t it?” Harry looks at Teddy and shakes his head. “It’s going to be strange not to have you around anymore.”

“I’ll just be downstairs. You don’t have to make it sound like I’m being sent off into space or something.” Teddy runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ll still be up here to pester you sometimes, Godpapa.”

Harry snorts as they step onto the lift. “Right. Because pestering me would be the first thing on your mind if you were up here.”

“Harry, behave,” she mutters before she elbows him lightly. She thinks that she might have preferred it when he was too bothered by her dating Teddy to tease about it. Once he and Ron pass the uncomfortable phase and reach the teasing phase, it’s never long before she’s resisting the impulse to curse them in creative ways.

Teddy snorts. “Is that even possible?”

“It’s doubtful,” she agrees, “but I live in hope.”

“See, it’s not fair when you both join forces against me,” Harry points out as the lift arrives in the Atrium.

“Who says it isn’t fair?” She smiles sweetly. “I happen to think that it is, after all.”

“You would,” Harry mutters as they stand in the shortest queue to use the Floo. “We’ll see what you say after Ron joins us and is on my side.”

“It’ll be two against two, which is a fair fight,” Teddy says.

“Just a few weeks and already whipped,” Harry says sadly as he shakes his head. Before Hermione can smack him, he steps through the Floo.

“He’s such an arse.” She rolls her eyes before she Floos to Finnigan’s. When she arrives, she smacks Harry’s shoulder immediately. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”

“Bloody hell, woman. Some warning next time would be nice.” He rubs his shoulder and looks behind her as Teddy shows up. “You’re a witness when I complain to Shacklebolt about being abused by the Deputy Head of Magical Law.”

“I didn’t see anything, Auror Potter,” Teddy says innocently. He motions. “But I do see Ron over there with a table. If we don’t hurry, he might start eating the table, which wouldn’t be good.”

“Too many splinters,” Hermione adds as they make their way to Ron’s table. She sits down and watches Teddy sit across from her. She’s glad that he’s not beside her because she might have been tempted to touch. She misses him, especially after such an emotionally draining weekend. The letters they wrote were nice, but not the same as being able to snuggle against him.

“You’re staring,” Harry whispers as he sits down beside her.

“Right.” She looks away from Teddy and focuses on Ron. “Hello, Ron. I hope that you weren’t waiting long.”

“Nah, I just got here, but I’m starving already. Too much walking today. I’m ready to sit and have a pint.” He makes a face. “Not that I can yet but it’s a good goal for after work.”

“Tough case?” She opens a menu and moves her leg so that it’s just casually brushing against Teddy’s.

“Not really. Just a lot of people to interview and get statements from, which means walking all over and listening to people. My job would be much easier if it didn’t involve people,” Ron decides.

“But people are necessary for our jobs,” Teddy points out. “Hermione wouldn’t get to win so many cases without them.”

“True. Still, they talk too much,” Ron says with a shrug as he looks at his menu.

“Speaking of winning cases, this is hereby a delayed celebration of the Hawkins case, won last week by the amazing and—“

“Talented and intelligent Hermione Granger-Weasley,” Ron finishes for Harry. They both raise their hands as if they’re holding glasses and nod at her. “Well done.”

“Great job,” Harry adds before they both drink from the non-existent glasses.

She shakes her head and laughs. “You know, you could have waited for your little ritual until you actually had something to drink.” She looks at Teddy and explains, “They do this every time I win a case. It’s tradition after all these years.”

“And if she ever loses, we’ll take her out and get her pissed,” Ron declares before he knocks on the wooden table top. “But that wouldn’t become a tradition because she hates to lose.”

“Yes, she does.” Teddy nods his head in agreement. “I’ve been on her team during a pub quiz, so I speak from experience.”

“Watch it, Lupin, or I’ll make you join another team next time,” she warns as she closes her menu. She’s going to go with a burger today since the one Ron had last week looked really good.

“Sorry,” he says as his hair turns turquoise. “Of course, I might win if I’m on another team that has more Muggle knowledge.”

“Oi!” Ron shakes his head and clucks his tongue. “So young. So naïve. You need to learn the rules, my boy.” Ron looks at Harry and sighs. “It looks like it’s up to us to teach him.”

“He must be taught the ways of survival,” Harry agrees, speaking in a serious tone even as he’s obviously fighting a smile. “Rule number one, never tell her that there might be someone more knowledgeable than her around. She won’t believe you, and it’ll just make her cross.”

“Rule number two, never ask her stupid questions in the morning until she’s had at least two cups of coffee.” Ron frowns. “Change that. Just don’t ask stupid questions ever, coffee or not.”

“Rule number three, don’t leave clothes on the floor unless you want to risk having them banished to who knows where.” Harry sighs. “I never got my favorite pair of denims back.”

“Rule number, uh, whatever, don’t ever tell her that she’s beautiful when she’s angry. She’s seen herself in the mirror during an argument, so she knows that her face turns red and she scowls in a way that isn’t adorable,” Ron confides.

“Actually, rule number one is not to listen to anything these two prats say,” Hermione interrupts, glaring at Harry and Ron before focusing her glare at Teddy when he laughs. “Something funny?”

“Not at all,” he says smoothly. He looks at Harry and Ron. “Thank you for the advice, but I think I prefer to figure out my own rules. Call it the arrogance of youth or a natural curiosity, but I’d rather learn for myself.”

“Good answer,” she says with a slight smile. She looks at Harry and Ron when they snicker. “Problem?”

“Nope. Of course not.” Harry pushes his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Just remembering when I used to be young and daring.”

“Ah, I remember those days well.” Ron shakes his head. “It feels like only yesterday when I was flying through the air wearing nothing but a pair of shorts on a dare.”

“That _was_ yesterday,” Harry points out. “It was a bloody good dare, too, if you hadn’t been stubborn enough to actually do it. I’d have won the match.”

“Harry, my dear best friend, you’ll never win a chess match against me, dares or not,” Ron announces. He looks at Hermione and winks. “Tell him, Hermione. If it’s coming from you, he might actually believe it.”

“Harry, next time? Win,” she says simply.

“I’ll try my best.” Harry grins before he stands up. “I’ll go place our orders. What does everyone want?”

“I’ll help,” Teddy offers as he gets to his feet. “Not even _the_ Harry Potter can carry four glasses without help.”

She and Ron give their orders, and she watches Teddy walk with Harry to the bar. After they reach it, she looks at Ron. They didn’t have a chance to talk after his visit last night to speak with Rose, and she’s curious to find out what happened. “Are things better with Rose now?”

“I hope so.” He shrugs. “We talked, but I don’t really understand where she’s coming from, so it’s tough. Mostly, I listened and tried not to make things worse. She takes after you too much when it comes to wanting to know everything and analyzing every little detail.”

“I think listening is pretty important. I’m trying to understand, so maybe that’ll help. She was really upset this weekend, but I think she’s going to get better about both of us moving on, even if it takes time.”

“Most things seem to take time so far as I can tell. I just can’t believe that she went to bloody Malfoy’s. I don’t know why you let her be friends with that kid,” Ron mutters.

“As if I’d try to control who she is and isn’t friends with?” She rolls her eyes. “You should know me better than that. Besides, Scorpius offered her good advice, from what I’ve been able to tell.”

“Good advice from a Malfoy is like one of those what are they called? An oxymoron?” Ron frowns as he thinks about it, and she can’t help but smile.

“Big word. It’s the right one, even if I disagree that it’s appropriate in this case.”

“I do know some big words. Like I could know you for ages and not have learned some.” He makes a face before he nods. “But, yeah, I think things are better now than they have been since she got home from school. I’m going to plan something with Mel over the weekend when they’re over and see how Rose acts. Guess time will tell.”

“That’s a good idea. Teddy’s coming over for dinner this week for the same reason,” she tells him. “Well, not just that reason, but we’ll see how things go.”

Harry and Teddy return then with drinks. She accepts her glass of pumpkin juice and takes a sip as she listens to them start discussing a recent Quidditch match. She doesn’t really care about the match, but it’s nice to see Teddy relaxed and talking to her best friends as if he’s their equal instead of a kid they helped raise. It’s not a total acceptance of everything, but it’s a good step forward.


	57. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a meeting about the Warrington case

The offices of PuMa Enterprises are located in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse in Greenwich, but is really a modern office building. Hermione’s glad they have a public Floo because she’s never been to Greenwich before and might not have found the building easily. The interior is tasteful and welcoming, and it seems to be pretty busy, with people arriving via Floo and using the lifts. She checks the clock and sees that she’s ten minutes early. She’ll probably have to wait, but it will take time to reach her destination.

The receptionist in the lobby tells her to go to the second floor and gives her directions. It’s tempting to take the stairs for a spot of exercise since she’s early, but she doesn’t want to risk looking rumpled for her meeting. It’s something that would likely be noticed and commented upon, so she takes one of the two lifts upstairs. It doesn’t take very long before one arrives on the ground floor and opens its doors. The trip up to the second floor is short, so she steps off the lift and looks around.

There are offices up here, and she sees large windows at either end of the corridor that she assumes have nice views of the nearby river or neighborhood. She doesn’t go to look since she isn’t here for the scenery. She turns to the right and walks until she sees the corridor that the receptionist mentioned. There, she turns left and walks a short distance until she reaches her destination.

She enters the office and smiles at the secretary. “I have an appointment at two,” she says as she approaches the woman’s desk. “The name is Hermione Granger-Weasley.”

“Yes, Madam. I’ll let Mr. Malfoy know that you’ve arrived. Please, sit. Would you like tea while you wait?”

“No, thank you.” She sits down and browses through her file. It’s little surprise that Malfoy makes her wait. It’s a basic power play that she adapted to during her training. Ogden made sure of that, since part of their job is being in control and not letting emotions guide their reactions. If anything, she’s slightly disappointed that Malfoy has to resort to such common practices.

When she enters his office at fifteen minutes after two, she looks around instead of focusing immediately on him. The office is similar to the one in his home, only with fewer books and a large window overlooking the river. After she deliberately takes time surveying her surroundings, she looks at him and can see the nerve twitching in his cheek. Being ignored is usually more annoying than being forced to wait.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Granger.” He motions to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit or stand. I don’t really care which as long as you tell me why you demanded this meeting.”

“Demand is such a harsh word. I prefer request,” she decides as she sits down.

“Most requests don’t say ‘schedule a meeting for us or I’ll make an investigation into your business public’,” he says dryly.

“I never threatened to make the investigation public. I simply said that it would be in your best interests to meet with me today.”

“My best interests generally don’t involve having to meet with the Deputy Head of Magical Law. What’s this about, Granger?”

“Air Swift,” she says, watching his face closely. A lot of the information that led her here comes from intuition instead of fact so she has to play this carefully. If he gets demanding, her efforts might fail, which isn’t an option.

He purses his lips and leans back in his chair. “They make brooms, don’t they?”

“They do. Including a new model that hasn’t yet been released. You’re familiar with it, I’m sure, since I saw it in your home office on Saturday.”

The tic in his cheek is back, and he glances at his desk before looking back at her. “Perhaps you’re mistaken. You never were one for brooms, after all.”

“See, what I’m trying to understand is why PuMa Enterprises bought Air Swift privately and has taken such extreme measures to ensure that the general public isn’t aware of the buy-out. I assumed it would be best to ask you directly before I begin to ask questions around the community,” she says casually.

“I would think that the legal purchase of a company in financial difficulty wasn’t any of your concern, Granger. It isn’t exactly your area of expertise, after all.”

“It concerns me when it involves the accused in a murder case. When I’m establishing a history for someone that I’ll face in court, then all of their life becomes my business. In this case, I discovered an unsound business that had been solid for nearly a century before it was bought quickly by an unnamed source. Shortly thereafter, the previous owner has an empty vault and no family business remaining.”

“There’s more than a broom to this,” he says after a moment. “You wouldn’t have come to my own office to confront me if it were just about a broom.”

“You’re right. There’s also the matter of Astoria Greengrass.” She sees his eyes widen briefly before he presses his lips together. She’s made a hit, so she continues to pursue it. “Your partner’s sister-in-law and the woman that you were betrothed to in your youth.”

“I’m familiar with her, Granger. What I fail to see is what she has to do with a broom company,” he challenges, not looking away.

And therein lies the problem. She isn’t sure what Astoria Greengrass has to do with this. She connected the dots based on what information Kevin gave her, which led back to Malfoy and Pucey, but she doesn’t know why they’d have gone after Warrington and ruined him.

“You don’t know.” He smirks and leans back again. “I’ll give you credit for even getting as far as you did. Someone must have given you her name.”

“It came to me in a dream,” she says simply. “Do you plan to answer my questions or will I have to go through all the tedious paperwork to bring you and your partner in for formal questioning? I daresay that someone might leak word of it to the press, and I do hate when my work is interrupted by controversy.”

The frown is back as he studies her. “You’d actually do it, you crazy bint,” he mutters. He looks at a frame on his desk before he looks at her. “These questions of yours need to be answered for the Warrington case? You don’t have enough on him without all this?”

“We have evidence, but I want to ensure that there’s enough to put him away for the rest of his life,” she tells him honestly.

“I read about the case. The children they found.” He drifts for a moment before he nods once. “I’ll answer your questions, but I reserve the right to refuse to reply to any that I dislike.”

“With the nature of the case, the court will be closed. I can’t promise that no one will find out whatever you tell me, of course, but I can take the necessary security measures to make it very difficult for anyone to speak with the press.” She’s not foolish enough to make promises that aren’t completely within her power to keep, but she’s not had any leaks in major cases since she fired someone years ago.

“PuMa Enterprises does own Air Swift,” Malfoy tells her. “Pucey and I decided one evening that we wanted to own a broom company because it’s a profitable business. We chose Air Swift for personal reasons.”

“Because it was owned by Warrington.”

“We had an enlightening discussion that led us to realize that we had both been working towards ruining the same man. By combining forces, we were able to strike hard and fast.”

“So, you deliberately weakened his business and then came in to buy it when he was in too much debt to repay the bank?” she asks for confirmation.

“Something like that.” He arches a brow. “I presume that someone like you might have involved the courts or made public claims against Warrington, but we don’t work the same way as most people.”

“Why did you want to ruin him?” She isn’t entirely certain that he’ll answer, but she’ll ask until he does. She needs to know any information that might impact the case against Warrington.

“Two years ago I saw Warrington looking at my son during a holiday party.” Malfoy tightens his grip on the arm of his chair. “I did not approve of the look or of the way that he attempted to charm my son.” He looks again at the photograph frame. “I was suspicious of Warrington back when I was a student, and my suspicions had only strengthened in time. I wanted to destroy him for looking at my child in that way.” He looks back at her. “I’m sure that you can understand the feeling, Granger. You’re a parent, after all.”

It isn’t what she expects to hear. In a twisted way, she can understand his motivation. He’s wrong, though, about how she'd respond, because if anyone ever attempted to abuse her children, she’d make sure that they paid in ways that the courts would never approve. “Did he do anything more than look?”

“No,” he says sharply. “I never allowed Scorpius to be around the man again. I questioned my son afterwards, and I’m confident that nothing happened prior to that occasion.”

“How does Astoria Greengrass fit into this?” She glances at her notes. “According to my sources, she passed away three years ago.”

“Did your sources say how she died?”

“There was no other information. Just a date of death and a statement that a private funeral service had been conducted in France.” She arches a brow. “How did she die?”

Malfoy shifts in his chair and glances out the window. “You’ll give me your word that the conversation we’re about to have will not be put into your notes or shared at the trial. If necessary, you can place the full responsibility of my company for buying Air Swift on me and leave Adrian out of it.”

“I can’t make that kind of promise, Malfoy. Not without knowing the information and making an informed decision.” She doesn’t want to resort to threats of asking Adrian and Daphne Pucey themselves because she isn’t entirely sure that threats would be taken seriously. He seems to have made the decision to assist with the case, even if he’s barely given her anything more than his own justification, so he might be willing to tell her more if she doesn’t become hostile.

He curses under his breath and glares at her. “I’m not supposed to know the facts. Daphne has no idea that I’ve been told, and I’d like to keep it that way.” After a moment of silence, he frowns. “Bloody Gryffindors and their bloody ethics.”

“We haven’t been identified by our houses in twenty years, Malfoy. Once I hear what you have to tell me, then I’ll know if the information might be useful in the case against Warrington or not. Until then, though, I can’t make a choice.”

“Astoria committed suicide. In a way, it was a welcome relief for her family. She hadn’t ever been quite right since school, so she had been sent away when she was eighteen. It was suspected that she inherited a mental condition from a great-aunt who had been mad. It wasn’t until after her death that Daphne learned the truth.” He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair.

“The truth?” she prompts. Suicide is certainly something that most Pureblood families would keep secret, but mental illness is even more scandalous. She tries to remember a face to match the name Astoria, but it’s been too long for her to remember someone she never met.

“Warrington.” Malfoy sneers as he says the name and glances at the photograph before he continues. “Daphne found Astoria’s journals, and she learned that Warrington had abused her during her first year at school. From what her journals say, he told her that he chose a new student every year to be his pet, though she didn’t know if it was true or not. I have my own suspicions about that, but that’s neither here nor there. The important thing is that Warrington abused his fellow Slytherins and scared them into keeping quiet. Not even Astoria’s own sister was aware of the abuse.”

Had Snape known? Had Dumbledore? Hermione can’t imagine a student being able to get away with physically abusing younger students for years. It set a history for Warrington, certainly, and could explain the origins of behavior that escalated as he got older, but Astoria is dead, and it’s unlikely that journals would be admissible to the court. It’s just hearsay without her alive to confirm what she wrote. At least, that’s how Hermione figures the Wizengamot will see it. If Warrington had managed to keep the cycle of abuse a secret during school, as he apparently claimed to Astoria, then it’s also unlikely that any other victims were named in the diary. Bugger it.

“Well, now you have your answers.” Malfoy arches a brow. “Satisfied?”

“Not at all,” she admits as she rubs the back of her neck. “I won’t be able to use the information about Astoria, so you’re safe there. With her dead, there’s no way to prove that she actually endured abuse at his hands. The journal isn’t admissible as evidence. We’ve been working under the presumption based on the known facts that he had targeted Muggle children, like the victims, but you're suggesting he abused people in our world when he was young and hadn’t yet advanced to the torturous acts recently committed.”

“I don’t feel responsible for those children’s deaths,” Malfoy says suddenly. “I didn’t have proof that Warrington was the monster that I suspected, so I couldn’t have said anything even if I were the type. I ruined his business and emptied his vault, so he couldn’t have bought any children for nearly a year now.”

“I never blamed you for the acts that he committed,” she points out. “He’s responsible for the deaths, no one else. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn’t have the opportunity to do that to anyone else, though. It’s my job.”

She organizes her file and stands up. “I appreciate you meeting with me, Malfoy. This has helped rule out two leads, at least, so now we can focus on other areas that might prove more useful.”

He frowns as he gets to his feet. “As much as you annoy me, I can’t argue against the fact that you’re good at your job.” He hesitates before he reluctantly says, “Thank you for keeping Astoria’s history private. She was a sweet child before she began to change and, as you said, I was supposed to marry her once upon a time. Your respect in the matter is noted.”

“If what you say is true, it seems that she suffered enough in life. She doesn’t have to suffer more now in death.” Hermione shrugs a shoulder and has to bite her tongue not to get into a discussion about her thoughts regarding arranged marriages, especially with children.

“Good day, Granger,” he says as he walks her to the door, “and good luck.”

“Thank you, Malfoy. Always a pleasure,” she says with a nod before she leaves his office. Instead of walking straight to the lift, she turns and walks to the large window nearby. Looking out, she watches a boat drift past and starts to contemplate the information that she’s just learned.


	58. Aspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy comes over for dinner, take two

“Hugo, you’re supposed to be helping your sister make the salad, not eating all the tomatoes before they can be put into the bowl.” Hermione looks at her children and watches Hugo attempt to give her an innocent look. The innocence is betrayed by the tomato seeds on the corner of his mouth.

“Mum, I wasn’t—“

“Before you finish that sentence, remember what happens to people who tell lies,” she warns, giving Rose a stern look when her daughter lets out a giggle.

Hugo frowns and squirms before he sighs. “I wasn’t planning to eat _all_ the tomatoes. Besides, you say that eating this healthy stuff is good for us.”

“Now he remembers that,” Rose mutters as she rolls her eyes. “Here. Have a slice of onion. It’s healthy, too.”

“I don’t want a slice of onion.” Hugo makes a face. “I like the tomatoes most of all.”

“So do the rest of us, which is why you need to stop eating them all before there aren’t any left,” Hermione says as she turns back to the lamb chops that she’s frying. 

The sound of the Floo interrupts any defense that Hugo planned to make. “Teddy’s here!” Hugo says before he steps away from the counter and leaves the kitchen. “I’ll go get him.”

She glances at Rose, who seems to tense up at Hugo’s words. “Are you okay?”

Rose looks at her and nods. “I’m fine, Mum. I promised you that I’d give him a chance. It’s just weird.”

“I appreciate that promise. As for it being weird, there’s nothing I can really do about that.” Hermione looks over at the door when she hears Teddy answering a question that Hugo’s asked. She smiles when he enters the room and feels butterflies in her tummy like she’s a teenager. She still isn’t used to the effect that he has on her.

“Evening, ladies,” he says as he enters the room. For a moment, he looks hesitant when he glances at Rose but then he focuses on her and smiles as his hair turns orange. “Something smells good.”

“We’re having lamb chops and salad and potatoes and peas with carrots,” Hugo informs him. “Me and Rose are making the salad.”

“Rose and I,” Hermione corrects.

“That’s what I said. Rose and I.” Hugo rolls his eyes before he goes back to the counter to help Rose.

“Right. I must have heard wrong.” She looks at Teddy and smiles. “Good evening, Teddy. We’re glad that you could join us tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose blurts out then cringes. She looks at the onion she’s cutting and frowns. “I mean, for last week. I don’t really hate you.”

Teddy looks surprised by the apology and glances at Hermione before looking back at Rose. “You’re forgiven. For what it’s worth, I had hoped that you didn’t really hate me. Now, what can I do to help?”

“You can set the table, if you want,” Hermione offers, slightly amused by how stunned Rose appears to be after Teddy simply accepts the apology and moves on. She really wants to kiss him, not only because it feels like ages since she’s had the opportunity but because he somehow knew the best way to handle Rose right now. He’s going to be good in Wizarding Welfare, especially when he gets cases dealing with children.

“Alright. That’s something I can definitely do,” he says as he walks over to her. “I want to see what you’re cooking.” He stands behind her and leans forward to stare down at the lamb chops. “Mmm. Smells good.” He rests his hand on her hip and, for a moment, she’s not entirely sure if he’s talking about the food or about her. He lowers his voice. “I really want to word-I-guess-we-can’t-say-here-either you right now, just so you know.”

“Ditto,” she murmurs before she lightly nudges his tummy with her elbow. “Maybe later.”

“Promise?” He laughs when she elbows him a little harder but doesn’t try anything else distracting. He steps away and reaches into the overhead cabinet for plates.

“Did Dil write to you, Teddy?” Hugo asks as he rips up lettuce to add to the salad. “He wrote to me and said we should visit soon. I told him that Rose is home now and might like to see the dragons.”

“He did actually write to me, just a couple of days ago,” Teddy says. “He told me that he enjoys getting letters from you and is looking forward to seeing us all again soon as well as meeting Rose. Maybe we can convince your mum to take a day off one weekend soon, and we can go for a visit.”

“That could be fun,” Hermione says as she finishes with the meat. She looks at Rose. “Would you like to go meet Dilwyn and see the dragons sometime?”

“I guess so. Hugo talks about it constantly, so it might be fun.” Rose shrugs a shoulder before she looks calculating. “Can we fly on the dragons? Hugo told me that this Dil bloke offered before but you said no.”

“You can fly on them,” Hermione says, “when you’re sixteen, like I’ve always said.”

“Mum, that’s not fair,” Hugo whinges. “We want to fly on them now. Not in a million years.”

“Five years for you, not a million.” She shakes her head. “Dragons aren’t the same thing as flying on brooms, so you should be older before you ever try.”

“So it’s okay if we might die when we’re sixteen but we’re too young now?” Rose rolls her eyes. “That’s such a mother answer. It doesn’t make any sense.” She looks at Teddy and frowns in thought. “What do you think, Teddy? Should Mum let us fly now?”

“I think that your mother is the one who decides that sort of thing, and that I’m not about to be dragged into the middle of this.” Teddy shakes his head. “I’m not stupid, after all.”

“Good answer,” Hermione tells him before she looks back at Rose and Hugo. “You are too young now. Not to die, since I’m hoping that I’m long gone by the time the two of you reach that phase in your lives, but to do something that dangerous. If something unexpected happened, you wouldn’t be able to react quickly enough to possibly help save yourselves. So, ask me again when you’re older, and don’t go to your father about it because I’ve won that argument with him every single time.”

Hugo sighs. “It’s okay, Rose. Seeing the dragons is really cool, even if we can’t fly on them.”

“On that note, I’m going to set the table.” Teddy winks at her before he leaves the kitchen with a stack of plates and utensils.

“I’m gonna go help Teddy,” Hugo decides as he walks over to wash his hands before he leaves the kitchen.

She walks over to the counter to stand beside Rose. “I’ll help finish the salad. Everything else is ready, I think.”

“Teddy does make you smile a lot,” Rose says softly. “More than Daddy did before he left. It’s still weird, though. He’s our age, and you’re our mum.”

“Well, I’m not sure if I’d compare twenty to twelve, but he’s certainly closer to your age than mine,” she agrees. “He does make me smile, though. I’m happy when I’m with him, even if things are still complicated.”

“Mel is younger than Daddy, too. Maybe you both just like younger people now,” Rose muses. She looks up at Hermione. “Is Daddy upset about Teddy? You didn’t like it when he started dating Mel. You were frowning a lot during Easter whenever Mel was mentioned.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like your father dating Mel. It was more about dealing with the fact that he’d moved on first and that Mel isn’t really like me at all. It’s hard to explain, Rose. When you’re older, you might understand it more. I promise that we can talk about it in a few years, and I’ll answer questions you might have then honestly.”

“I’m twelve. I’m not a child anymore. You’re always saying when I’m older, but I want to know now, not then.” Rose shakes her head. "Maybe you should try now."

Hermione sighs. "It's just that so much of what I'd say requires context I know you don't have. It's like if I tried to tell you about your uncle George's latest creation, but I only used terminology and concepts you won't learn until seventh-year Potions, or maybe more like, if I tried to explain Muggle e-mail to your grandfather. It requires a lot of groundwork that isn't the actual explanation, just stuff you need to be familiar with in order for the actual explanation to make sense, so it would wind up taking as long to explain as to just wait until then, and then explain."

“I hate that."

"Believe it or not, I can identify with that. Fortunately, I don't really think you'll need to be in your thirties to understand. Perhaps just sixteen or so."

"Well, for right now, I think that relationships are just a lot of trouble. Even when they’re happy, they might not really be. Victoire and Teddy broke up, and Victoire wasn’t really that sad at all. You and Daddy got a divorce, and you were sad for a while. Now, you’re happy, but I don’t think it’s just because of Teddy cause you were happier before.”

“I have to agree,” she says thoughtfully. “Relationships _are_ a lot of trouble. It’s not easy at all, and, sometimes, it’s extremely difficult. There are times, though, when it’s worth it.” She glances up and notices Teddy standing outside the doorway eavesdropping. She ducks her head and smiles. “When those times come along, you have to take the chance and deal with the consequences. They don’t always end well, like when your father and I divorced, but I wouldn’t go back and change things, Rose. However, I think you’d be wise if you decided to wait to have any kind of relationship until you’re, oh, sixty maybe. By then, your father might actually let you have a date.”

Rose giggles and leans her head against Hermione’s side. “Daddy told me I can’t date until I’m a hundred. Sixty sounds better.”

“Hmm. A hundred is a good number,” she muses before she looks back at the door and sees that Teddy’s gone. She shakes her head and finishes the salad. “Do you want to help me get things ready to take to the table or do you want to go get drink orders from Ted and Hugo?”

“I’ll do drinks.” Rose gives her a half-hug before she leaves the kitchen. 

Once she’s gone, Hermione washes her hands and starts the process of transferring things into serving containers. When she hears someone enter the kitchen, she stops and listens. “You’re not Rose,” she says as she looks over her shoulder to see Teddy.

“Hugo and Rose went upstairs to wash up for dinner. I offered to take over the drinks for her,” he says as he walks towards her. “We’ve got two minutes, at least, which isn’t time for much, but it is enough for this.” Before she can say anything, he pulls her to him and kisses her. She parts her lips and deepens the kiss, pressing against him as she curls her tongue around his.

When he lets go, she leans against the counter and looks at him. “I’ve wanted to do that since you first got here,” she admits.

“Ditto.” He runs his fingers through his green hair and takes a few breaths. “Can I just say that it’s not easy to stand here being good instead of pushing you onto the counter and having my wicked way with you? I know, I know. The kids and not the right time. Still, certain parts of my body don’t really understand the difference between ‘good time’ and ‘really horrible time’. Also, for the record, so not fair that you can make me feel like this after just a kiss.”

“It’s good that you don’t let certain parts of your body guide your actions then,” she says, unable to help smiling as she looks at him. “For the record, I think it’s definitely fair since you have the same effect on me.”

“See, not a good thing to admit when I can’t do anything about it.” He reaches over and touches her cheek. “Rose seems to be better.”

“Well, after Friday, I think just about anything would be an improvement. But, yes, she’s trying. I don’t think it’ll be anything she accepts whole-heartedly immediately, but she’s willing to give our relationship a chance, so that’s something.” She looks at the door then says quietly, “I think that the divorce affected her more than I ever realized, which makes me feel like maybe I was selfish or just a bad parent for not noticing before now. I mean, I knew the children had problems with it, just like Ron and I both did, but I thought that they got over it in time.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Being a parent isn’t easy, and the sense of failure is more common than it ought to be, yet I know that I’m lucky to have two amazing children.”

“You’re a brilliant mother, Hermione. No one is perfect, and there will always be times when you can’t predict or know something. The important thing is that you love them, and they love you, which they do.” He kisses her forehead before he steps away. “I watched you with her earlier, and I didn’t want to interrupt or anything, so I just went back to finish helping Hugo. She’s going to be okay, even if it takes time. Maybe not about us, but I have to hope that she will be since I really don’t foresee wanting our relationship to end anytime soon.”

Every time he references the future, she can’t help but want to take a moment to examine the possibilities. It’s nice to hear him make plans for them weeks from now and to hear him talk about their relationship in a developing sort of way, but it also scares the part of her that likes to have the power and plan everything because this isn’t something either of them can control. Her relationship with Ron proved that, after all.

“You’re doing it again,” he mutters. “None of that, understood?”

“None of what?”

“Thinking too much. I can sense that logical side dying to take over.”

“I wasn’t—“ She catches herself before she lies and smiles sheepishly. “Fine. Maybe I was thinking, but that’s just part of who I am, as you well know.”

“I know it is, but not tonight. The kids will be back soon, and there’s great food to eat, and I really hope that I can stay for a little while once they’re in bed so that I can word-we-can’t-say-here you. A lot.”

“A lot, huh?” She leans up and kisses him briefly. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“You’re not going to scold me for telling you what I’m plotting?” He traces her lips with his finger before they hear footsteps on the stairs. Dropping his hand quickly, he mutters, “Bugger. I’m supposed to be getting drinks, not snogging my girlfriend. Rose will be so disappointed in me.”

She laughs when he hurries over to the fridge and removes a jug of pumpkin juice. “I’ll have pumpkin juice, too,” she tells him as Hugo and Rose enter the room.

“Mum, you’re not done yet?” Rose asks as she joins her at the counter. She frowns and looks from Hermione to Teddy and back again. “Ugh. That’s so gross.”

“What’s gross?” Hugo asks as he picks up the bowl of salad.

“They’ve been _kissing_.” Rose makes a face and shudders. “You’re too old for that, Mum.”

“I don’t think anyone’s too old for kissing,” Teddy points out as he looks at Hermione and arches a brow.

She shrugs a shoulder because she doesn’t know how Rose figured out what they’d been doing. “Teddy’s right. Your grandparents kiss, after all.”

“And it’s gross then, too.” Rose rolls her eyes.

“Least they did it when we weren’t here,” Hugo tells Rose matter-of-factly. “Come on, let’s get the food on the table. I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Rose mutters as she picks up the bowl of mashed potatoes and follows Hugo to the dining room.

“Your kids are too observant and clever,” Teddy points out as soon as they leave.

“I’m starting to realize that those two traits aren’t necessarily positive all the time.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how Rose figured it out.”

“Oh, I do. Your hair is mussed and your lipstick is smeared,” Teddy offers helpfully. “I was too worried about getting caught in the act of not doing what I was supposed to that I didn’t think about it. Next time we’ll know better.”

“You’d better not be kissing again,” Rose calls out as she returns to the kitchen.

Hermione reaches up to smooth down her hair and looks at Teddy, wondering if he feels like a teenager caught snogging by a parent because that’s sort of how she feels right now. She rolls her eyes when he flashes a cheeky grin and picks up the plate of lamb chops. Next time, they’ll be more careful.


	59. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has an unscheduled meeting at work

It isn’t often that Hermione has a chance to go out for lunch at somewhere as posh as Z. She generally eats in her office, at Finnigan’s, or occasionally at a Muggle place around the Ministry. She certainly doesn’t spend so much on one meal that she could have taken the children out for dinner and still had money left over. Fortunately, she isn’t paying for lunch today. Ogden invited her, and she knows that he can afford to splurge. Still, after their meal, she offers to pay her share, and is relieved that he refuses. She doubts she would have had enough galleons on her, which would have been rather embarrassing.

After she leaves Z, she and Ogden part ways. He has an appointment with a healer, and she’s got to get back to work. Their conversation was informative, mostly due to what wasn’t said. They discussed the department’s cases, personnel, and the Ministry, and he told her about his treatments, in general, but he never said anything about when he plans to return to work or about a tentative diagnosis.

It might not mean anything at all, but she can’t help but think he knows more than he told her. The possibility of receiving a promotion and becoming Head of Magical Law is something that she has tried not to let herself think about too much. It would be challenging and a great career move, but it’s pointless to consider something that might not be a reality any time soon. 

Now, though, it’s on her mind as she makes her way back to the Ministry. When she realizes that she’s thinking about it too much, she forces it to the corner of her mind and focuses on Ogden’s health. The promotion isn’t more important than that, after all. Hopefully, the testing that he’s going through this week will provide him some much needed answers for his own peace of mind. He seemed in good spirits during their meal, which is definitely a positive sign.

When she enters her outer office, she notices that Caroline is still out to lunch and that Teddy’s not at his desk. She also sees a woman sitting in the corner of the small waiting area. She blinks and tries to conceal her surprise when she identifies her. “Good afternoon, Professor Parkinson,” she says politely. She doesn’t have anything on her schedule until a meeting at three, so she’s curious why Pansy Parkinson is sitting in her office. “Are you lost?”

“I’m not lost, Mrs. Weasley. Your assistant, Mr. Lupin, went to get me a cup of tea,” Pansy says as she stands up. “I apologize for not making an appointment, but I didn’t want to wait.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “Well, you’re fortunate that I have a little free time right now. If you’ll follow me, please.” She unlocks the door to her office and walks inside, waiting until Pansy enters before she closes the door. “Ted will knock when he’s back with your tea.”

“I appreciate you making the time to see me. If I hadn’t come now, then there’s a good chance that I’d have convinced myself not to come at all.”

“Are you enjoying the summer holiday, Professor?” she asks politely as she sits down and puts away the file that she took with her to lunch. It’s frustrating to be caught unawares this way. Rose has said that she thinks she did well in Astronomy, so Hermione doubts it’s an official visit regarding Hogwarts.

“Quite. It’s always nice to be away from the castle for a short time and have an opportunity to catch up with old friends.” Pansy is frowning as she speaks, but Hermione isn’t completely uncertain that that’s not just a normal expression. She hasn’t had much to do with Pansy ever, but they are polite when their paths cross, mostly to avoid awkwardness during social events.

There’s a light knock on the door before Teddy opens it. “Sorry to interrupt, Boss, but I have a cup of tea for the professor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lupin.” Pansy accepts the cup of tea, and it’s obvious that her hands are shaking when tea spills over the side onto the saucer.

Teddy arches a brow and looks at her curiously. She shrugs a shoulder before she says, “Thank you, Lupin. I’ll let you know if we need anything else. Oh, and please let Caroline know that I’m in a meeting when she returns from lunch.”

“Will do,” he says before he turns and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

“I’d imagine that there’s a lot of catching up to do after spending so many months away at the school,” she muses, not at all sure if casual, polite conversation is required at this moment or not. While it’s tempting to ask bluntly why Pansy is there, she doesn’t want to push too hard in case it’s important.

“Yes, especially now that I’m teaching some of my friends’ children. There are always questions that I can’t answer.” Pansy takes a sip of her tea before she puts the saucer on the table beside her chair. “I met one of my oldest friends for dinner last night. Our conversation is actually what led me to come here unannounced. I couldn’t—I knew that I had to see you or I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Well, that certainly sounds dramatic. Hermione isn’t entirely sure whether it’s sincere or simply Pansy’s normal behavior. She remembers the woman being somewhat theatrical during their years at school, after all. “Is our conversation related to my work or another area?”

Pansy looks away to stare at a large framed photograph of London that Hermione has hanging on the wall. After a moment, she looks back and straightens her shoulder. “It’s about Charles Warrington.”

Her curious detachment fades immediately with those two words. She sits up and reaches for a pen and parchment. “I’ll be taking notes of your statement,” she explains. “Anything you tell me will become part of the case record and might be used during the trial. Are you prepared to give an official statement and possibly be called as a witness?”

Silence greets her question. She has to make sure that Pansy is aware of the legalities, though, so she won’t listen to anything that she can’t potentially use in the trial. She’s already got information after her meeting with Malfoy that is inadmissible, so she doesn’t need to hear something important only to have the witness refuse to testify.

After the silence becomes uncomfortable, she lowers her pen. “Professor, if you’re not prepared for the potential of testimony before the Wizengamot, then I would recommend that you finish your tea and leave without saying anything more. You’re under no obligation at this point to remain.”

“You’re wrong.” Pansy looks at the front of Hermione’s desk and frowns. “I’m under a moral obligation, if nothing else. My friend told me that Charles had killed children--children who were younger than my students. If there is a chance that he might be released and allowed to repeat his actions when I might have been able to stop him, then I would be responsible for that.”

“Warrington’s choices are not your responsibility, Professor Parkinson. There are many reasons to offer testimony, but guilt, misguided or not, isn’t one of them.” She doesn’t point out that a defense could cross-examine and create doubt if there is nothing more than responsibility guiding actions. It’s one of the horrible realities about law.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Granger. I’ve felt responsible since I first read about the case in the Prophet. I’d just convinced myself that it was too late and there was nothing I could do. I was wrong, though. I know that you need someone willing to testify to help your case. I was told that a witness testimony would be important.”

Granger. It always seems to come back to that when she deals with former Slytherins. She tries not to classify people by their sorting, but it’s one of the few similarities that all Slytherins seem to share. She’s Granger, regardless of marriage or familiarity. Of course, this isn’t the time to dwell on that odd little fact of life. Pansy seems willing to give a statement, and she needs something tangible to resolve the weak areas of the case. Though it’ll depend what Pansy has to say before she knows if it’s the solid lead she needs or not.

“Are you prepared to give an official statement and possibly be called as a witness?” she asks again.

Pansy nods slowly. “I am.”

“Alright.” She writes down the date and time beside Pansy’s name and focuses. “How do you know the accused, Charles Warrington?”

There’s a moment of silence, and Hermione wonders if the entire meeting is going to go this way. If so, it’s going to be a long afternoon. Before she can ask again, Pansy clears her throat. “I went to school with him and my family knew his family. He was a third year when I started Hogwarts.”

“Were you friends in school?”

“No.” Pansy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “From October 1991 until June 1992, I was sexually abused by Charles Warrington.” Her shoulders sag, and she leans back in her chair. “That’s the most difficult thing that I’ve ever said,” she whispers.

Hermione doesn’t know what to say in response. There’s a part of her that suspected this might be what Pansy wanted to discuss, but it’s still surprising. Eleven years old. Hugo’s age. She curls her fingers into her palm as she forces herself to remain objective and not get personally involved in the testimony. “It will be difficult for a while, but I’m told it gets gradually better over time,” she says, speaking from the experience of interviewing other victims of abuse.

“Is it ever easy?” Pansy asks quietly. “Probably not. I’ve kept this secret since I was twelve, so it feels bizarre to be discussing it now. Last night is the first time that I’d ever admitted it to anyone.”

“It’s very brave of you to come forward,” she tells Pansy honestly. She knows that cases of abuse and rape aren’t simply black and white, so she can’t judge anyone who doesn’t report a case or feels ashamed to discuss it.

Pansy snorts. “It doesn’t feel very brave. If I’d done so when I was a child, he might have been sent away and never had a chance to hurt anyone else. I don’t think I was the first, which is disgusting when I think back on it and realize he was only fifteen at the time. I know I wasn’t the last, obviously.”

“No, you weren’t,” she confirms softly. She has a good idea who Pansy had dinner with last night, and she hates that she’s going to have to thank Malfoy. At least she understands now what he meant about having suspicions of another victim when he was younger. She looks at Pansy and concentrates on the testimony. “I’m going to have to ask you for details about that year. I need to know what he did to you as well as anything else that you think might be important.”

“I know,” Pansy whispers. She runs her hand through her hair before she looks at Hermione. “I’ll have to talk about it in front of everyone, won’t I? He’ll be there, too?”

“Yes,” she says simply. It’s not the time for providing possible alternatives or musing about different scenarios. Pansy has to be prepared to discuss intimate details of her abuse in front of strangers so that Hermione can be guaranteed the testimony will be solid.

“Will you need my medical records?”

“Did you see a healer after the abuse?” If there is medical proof to back up the testimony, that’ll be even better.

Pansy smiles wryly. “I can’t have children, Granger. The things he did to me—it’s not possible anymore. There are medical terms and words that I never really understood, but it wasn’t necessary to know anything more than that. It ruined my life even more than the nightmares of that year, since I couldn’t find anyone who would marry me without the promise of carrying on their bloodlines, and I’ll never have a child of my own.” She shrugs. “Now, I have everyone else’s children, even if it’s not the same.”

“Rose has told me that you’re a good professor. Coming from her, it’s a compliment.” It’s a brief break in her professionalism, but she can tell how much it matters to Pansy, so it’s difficult not to say anything at all.

“She’s brilliant, as much as it pains me to admit.” Pansy rubs her hand over her face and sighs. “Well, I’ve put it off long enough. Where should I start?”

Hermione sets up an automatic quill since she knows now that the statement is likely to be long and extensive. Once she’s ready, she looks at Pansy. “Start at the beginning.”

It’s nearly three when they finish. Pansy’s face is wet and her eyes are swollen from crying, and she looks pale after having to relive such horrible memories. Hermione’s sickened at what she’s heard, and she can’t believe that Warrington managed to get away with it at school, of all bloody places. The statement is more than she had hoped for, and she feels confident now about their chances of a quick victory. It’s what she wants most, though she hasn’t shared her goal with the team in case she’s not successful.

After she walks Pansy out, she goes to Caroline’s desk. “I need you to reschedule my meeting tomorrow morning to sometime next week. After that, contact Davis and tell him that I’ll be there tomorrow at ten to meet with Warrington for his preliminary interview. If Warrington has arranged for a defense that we’re not aware of, then Davis needs to contact them to be present at the interview. I’ll be taking Kevin with me, so let him know to be ready at half-nine.”

“Has he been to Azkaban before?” Caroline asks.

“I don’t think so. Go ahead and let him know the security procedures. If I’m wrong, he’ll tell you that he knows them. Tell Ron that my interview with Warrington is being scheduled for tomorrow and get any new information that he might have, if there’s anything he hasn’t given me yet. I have a meeting in ten minutes, so I’ll be leaving momentarily, but I’ll be back later.”

“Okay. I’ll alert Davis now, since it might take longer to reach him and it’s already the afternoon. You just had a review meeting tomorrow, so I’ll reschedule it for next Wednesday, if possible. That’s a relatively clear day for you, so far.”

“Sounds good.” She goes back to her office and sits down. She has to leave soon, but she needs a moment to compose herself after everything she’s just heard. After closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths, she stands up and gathers her files for the next meeting. It’s time to get back to work.


	60. Summation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday at the office

It’s after two when Hermione and Kevin arrive back at the Ministry. They haven’t spoken since leaving Warrington’s cell, though she’s not entirely sure why not. There are many things that she wants to say right now, but she’s lost in her thoughts. Perhaps Kevin is experiencing the same thing. After they step through the secure Floo and back into the Auror Department, he murmurs something about needing to use the toilet.

She walks to her office, wondering if it’s odd that she feels as if she’s walking in a fog. As far as cases go, she’s actually dealt with a few that were worse than Warrington. She’s met crazier people, too. Still, there’s a quality to Warrington that makes her skin crawl, so it’s been a difficult day dealing with him. It isn’t just that, though. She isn’t sure if she should feel triumphant and revel in the successful interview, or if she should feel disgusted by everything she’s heard and give in to the urge to vomit that she’s had since the interrogation started.

When she reaches her office, she steps inside and finds Teddy explaining something to Susan. Good. It saves her the time of having Caroline locate them. She runs a hand over her face before she pinches her arm hard in a tradition that she started after her first successful case. It hurts, so she knows the settlement actually did happen. She walks over to Caroline’s desk. “Can you find out if Ron is available for a brief meeting soon?” she asks. She wants to talk to her team first, but Ron needs to hear everything, too.

“Did you have a specific time in mind?” Caroline looks down at the schedule and frowns. “I rescheduled most of your afternoon appointments like you requested, so you’ve got time before your meeting with the Minister at four.”

“Nothing specific. Just find out when he can give me about fifteen minutes for an update on the Warrington case. I have some information for him.” She looks over at Susan and Teddy. “I need you two in my office in a few minutes so that we can debrief when Kevin gets here. Finish up whatever you’re doing and come on in.”

“I’m just showing Susan which drawer is always sticking on the desk,” Teddy explains as he stands up. “It’s hers now, so I didn’t want her caught by surprise.”

Right. It’s Friday. Teddy’s last day in the department. She can’t believe that she forgot. It’s been a hectic couple of days, though, as her rearranged schedule can attest. “Alright. I’ll be in my office,” she says before she walks over and unlocks her door. Before she sits down, she pours a glass of water.

“Is something wrong, Boss?” Susan asks as she and Teddy enter the office. “Did the meeting not go well?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just been a long day. Traveling to Azkaban is never pleasant, but it’s especially not when dealing with a case like this.” She takes a drink of her water and leans back in her chair. “Kevin will be here in a minute. He had to make a stop on the way.”

“Are you sure that everything’s okay?” Teddy asks as he sits down next to Susan. When she nods and gives him a frustrated glare, he seems to finally accept her answer. He glances at Susan and shrugs before focusing back on Hermione. “Susan’s all moved in to her new office area. I got the rest of my stuff out. We’ll be going over a few of the cases she’s been reassigned after this, and then she should be ready.”

“Hopefully.” Susan makes a face. “There’s more than I ever realized, but I’ll get it down. Ted’s offered to answer any questions that I have for the first week or two, so that’s a relief. His being downstairs will be helpful.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that everything’s getting worked out there.” She looks up when Kevin enters the room and closes the door. “Alright?”

He nods and sits down. “Caroline said to tell you that you’ve got Ron at three.”

“Got it.” She straightens up and opens the file. “Well, now that everyone’s here, we can discuss the interview. It went well. Better than I expected, in all honesty. Warrington refused defense representation, but we did offer it and notated that in the file, so it’s official.”

“I have copies of the statement here,” Kevin says as he hands them each a stack of parchment. “We made copies before we came back, since we had time during all the security measures.”

“Basically, I questioned Warrington and told him what we had against him.” She’s glad that she doesn’t have to go into detail because she’s not sure if she can stand repeating it all so soon. “After he realized that we had his bollocks to the wall, he started to talk about deals. He’s pleading guilty, and he’s given us information about where he got the children.”

“Deals?” Teddy frowns as he looks up from the file. “What kind of deal?”

“No kind. I refused to discuss a deal even after he changed his plea. There are children involved, so my sense of justice requires more than a bargain. However, he seems to think the Wizengamot might be lenient if they find out he was willing to cooperate. He’ll be in Azkaban for the rest of his life. The only question is how long that life will be,” she explains. “The Wizengamot is responsible for sentencing, so they’ll evaluate the case files and make that determination.”

“So there’s no way that he’ll get out of prison now?” Susan clarifies.

“None at all. By changing his plea, he’s ensured that.” Hermione takes a moment to enjoy the success. “It also means that neither of the children has to testify now. I had hoped to get enough to go after him and get a guilty plea, but I wasn’t sure if it would be possible. After learning so much about him, though, it wasn’t that difficult to play at his weaknesses and get him to consider the facts.”

“She’s bloody brilliant at interrogation,” Kevin speaks up. “Don’t know how she could do it, some of what he was saying, but she definitely earned the guilty plea.”

“Of course she did,” Teddy says. “She wouldn’t be our boss if she wasn’t amazing at her job.”

“While I appreciate the compliments, that’s enough.” She takes another drink of her water and rubs the back of her neck. “There’s more information in the copies you’ve been given, but it’s done now. I have to submit the paperwork to the Wizengamot and appear for the sentencing, but the worst of it is finished. Great work everyone. We wouldn’t have been able to wrap it up so tightly around him if it hadn’t been for your contributions.”

“I’m just glad it’s done,” Susan admits. “This was a tough case.”

“I’ll be happy to put all those files away,” Kevin agrees. “Of course, who knows what we’ll get next, right? Have to love our jobs.”

“Well, I won’t be here for the next one,” Teddy says. “I’ll miss it, but I’m going to be pretty happy downstairs.”

“You’ll have to keep us posted about the kids.” Susan glances at him. “I know it’ll be a while before they’re even remotely okay, so we’ll want to have progress reports or something.”

“I should be able to do that.” Teddy looks at her and smiles. “I’ll give you reports every couple of weeks, Boss.”

“That’s good. If none of you have anything, I think that’s all I wanted to go over right now. I’ll be talking to Ron about the information Warrington gave us, but, otherwise, you’ve got copies of the statement.” She watches Susan and Kevin stand up and leave. Teddy lingers, fussing with the file deliberately until they’re alone.

“Ron’s got the kids this weekend, right? So, uh, dinner tonight to celebrate?” he asks under his breath. His words are so quiet that she can barely hear him, which isn’t really necessary since they’re the only two people in the office.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Ted?” She arches a brow and smiles slightly. Celebrating sounds like a good idea, and she’s glad to have a chance to see him without work or children interfering. She watches him remove his spectacles as his hair changes color.

“What if I am?” He looks up at her through a fringe of pale orange and smiles. “Would you go out with me?”

“I’ll think about it. I mean, I had plans to clean the house tonight and wash my hair, so I have to decide if having a date is more enjoyable.”

“It is. Trust me. I’ll make it worth your while. In fact, I’ll even make the sacrifice of allowing you to ravish me,” he offers.

“Get back to work, Lupin.” She shakes her head and laughs softly. “I’ll meet you at your flat at seven, and we can go out for dinner.”

He grins as he stands up. “I’d word-I-can’t-say-at-work you right now, but I don’t want to push my luck. I’ll see you at seven, Hermione.”

She watches his bum as he walks out of the office, rolling her eyes when he looks over his shoulder and catches her. He winks before he leaves and shuts the door behind him. Cheeky git. She takes another drink of water before she opens the file and begins summarizing the interview so she’ll be ready for her meeting with Ron.

Fifteen minutes after three, there’s a knock on the door. Ron steps inside and closes it behind him. “I don’t have much time,” he says before she can greet him. “It’s been a hectic day, and I just got a new case that’s going to mean working late.”

“Working late?” she repeats slowly. Her visions of a celebratory date with Teddy vanish as Ron looks guilty.

“I’m sorry. I know that I’m supposed to have the kids tonight, but this case is going to need me for several hours. I have to interview witnesses, check with the lab, and start looking into the victim. I don’t know when I’ll be done. Can I pick them up tomorrow and keep them until Monday morning instead? I can take them by Mum and Dad’s before I come to work on Monday.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ron. It’s work, so I completely understand.” She isn’t angry with him. She’s just disappointed that her plans with Teddy will have to be postponed. “We can meet on Monday morning, if that’s more convenient. I was just going to brief you on what happened with Warrington’s interview, so there’s nothing that needs your immediate attention.”

“How did it go?” he asks as he sits back in the chair. “I can take five minutes. Probably _should_ take a few minutes before I get started. It’ll let me focus easier.”

She nods. “It went alright. Warrington is a bastard, which we knew, but it turns out that he’s also self-serving, which shouldn’t be a surprise. When he was confronted with everything we have, he started trying to talk deals and leniency. No promises were made, of course, but he has given us some names for your team to investigate. Between us, I hope that the Wizengamot decides to create a new punishment involving his bollocks and a searing charm.”

“Ouch.” Ron shifts and gives her a pained look as he apparently imagines having his bollocks roasted. “But I agree. That’s good news, though, that he’s willing to deal, even if he doesn’t get a deal out of it.”

“It’s even better because the witnesses don’t have to testify and relive the nightmare that he put them through.” She frowns. “I don’t normally support Endless Sleep, but, in his case, I think that I’d make an exception.”

“That bad?” Ron grimaces. “He wouldn’t tell us anything during questioning, but he still made my skin crawl. Right bloody monster, that one.” He stands up and smiles wryly. “Better get back to work. Sorry about tonight, especially if you had plans.”

“It’s fine. I did, but I can reschedule them. Do you want to pick up the kids tomorrow morning or do you want me to drop them by?”

He considers it. “Maybe drop them by? I’m not sure how late I’ll be tonight, so sleeping even a little later might be brilliant. Say eleven?”

“Eleven is good.” She smiles. “Get to work, and we’ll talk more about Warrington on Monday.”

“Will do. I’ll tell Harry to schedule some free time so he can be there, too.” He snaps his fingers. “Oh, you mentioned names?”

“I have a list here. Do you want it now or do you want to wait until we can discuss it?”

“Actually, give it to me Monday. With this new case, my team is going to be busy tonight, so we wouldn’t have time to start investigating it anyway.” He goes to the door and glances back at her. “Thanks for not hexing me over the schedule change.”

“Just be glad that I’m in a good mood,” she tells him before he leaves. She stares at the closed door for a moment before she sighs. There go her plans to work late to catch up on her cases as well as her date and potential sleepover with Teddy. It’s frustrating, but it’s also not uncommon for their jobs to require schedule changes. Teddy will understand, so she’s not really concerned about that. She’ll tell him later about the change in plans. For now, she has a lot of notes from the interview to organize in Warrington’s file.


	61. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Teddy have their date

It’s almost seven by the time Hermione closes the file. She had intended to leave work by six so she could go home and change into something appropriate for a date, but she didn’t want to leave until she was at a good stopping point. As it is, she now has fifteen minutes until she’s due at Teddy’s flat. There isn’t time to go home, so she decides to just wear what she’s got on. It’ll have to do, and she doubts that Teddy will care anyway. 

Despite the fact that it’s Saturday and very few employees are at the Ministry, she still wears her work clothes. The last thing she wants is to be seen looking unprofessional, after all. It’s even more important right now since her meeting with Kingsley yesterday afternoon had given her another indication that Ogden might very well retire soon. The fact that Kingsley had even mentioned Ogden and the good work she was doing in the department had put her on alert. It might mean nothing, but she thinks that it’s better to be prepared, just in case.

There are still a lot of cases that need her attention, but they’ll wait until next week. She’s been at work since one, so it’s time to relax and enjoy the remainder of the weekend. After she organizes her desk, she gets her bag and leaves. She can hear people working in the Auror offices as she walks past on her way to the lifts, but she doesn’t pass anyone until she’s in the Atrium. There, she nods politely at Eric when she passes the security desk.

One benefit of working on the weekend is that there isn’t a queue at the Floos. She goes right up to the fireplace and tosses in powder before calling out Teddy’s address. When she steps through, she enters his sitting room. She starts to remove her work robes, but doesn’t have a chance to finish with the buttons. Instead, she finds herself pressed against the wall beside the fireplace as Teddy kisses her.

“I’ve wanted to do that for days,” he murmurs as he pulls back from the kiss.

“You just did it Thursday night,” she reminds him. She moves her fingers into his hair and leans up to kiss him again. 

“We snogged with your kids upstairs. Not the same thing, even if I think it’s kind of hot having to be so quiet.”

“Deviant.” She nips at his bottom lip and presses closer to him. They might have kissed a few times in the last couple of weeks, but it feels like ages since they’ve had sex. When she realizes that she’s thinking about having sex before they even go out for their date, she wonders if that’s the influence of dating someone younger or if she’s becoming more accepting of her own desires. It’s a question to consider at another time when Teddy isn’t rubbing against her.

“Am not. And I’m going to forget about feeding you if you keep doing that,” he warns in between kisses when she moves her hand beneath his shirt so she can touch his bare back. He has one hand on her arse, and she can feel his fingers working on her plait. Soon, her hair is free, and he brushes it out with his hand.

“Who says we can’t have food after?” She smiles and gently pushes him away. “In fact, we might even be hungrier when I’m done with you.”

“Oh, is that so?” He grins as his hair darkens to a lovely shade of green. “When you’re done with me? That sounds like a challenge.”

“Does it?” She purses her lips and pretends to think it over. “No, it’s not a challenge. You’re the one who promised to sacrifice yourself to my ravishment, after all.”

“It’s not much of a sacrifice, I have to admit.” He moves his hands up to keep her from unfastening the buttons on her robes. “Why are you all dressed up like it’s a weekday?”

“Stop that,” she mutters, slapping his hands away when he keeps diverting her from her task. “I’m dressed like this because I went into work today after lunch. I dropped the kids off at Ron’s, and he was obviously still feeling guilty about last night’s schedule change because he had food waiting.”

“Stop what?” He smiles innocently but lets her go back to unbuttoning her robes. “It’s Saturday, Hermione. That’s a day off. You know, the day when you _don’t_ go into work for several hours? Wait, Ron cooked? And you didn’t fall ill after?”

“Very funny. He actually bought Chinese, so there was no risk of food poisoning this time. Besides, the other time was due to tainted meat. Ron might not be a great chef, but he’s not terrible in the kitchen.” She finishes unbuttoning her robes and shrugs them off, catching them before they can hit the floor. He’s watching her closely, and she feels the heat of desire spread over her as he licks his lips and leans against the arm of his sofa.

“Will you stop folding the bloody robes and come kiss me? I’ve been terribly patient, you know? I deserve a reward.”

“Language, Ted, and stop whinging. I won’t go into disputing your claim of patience because we both know you’re lying.”

He groans. “I’m not whinging. Okay. Maybe I am, just a little. Still, kisses? Better than folding any day.”

She walks towards the sofa and leans around him to place her folded robes on the cushion. She deliberately presses close to him and rubs herself against his body while she’s putting the robes down. It isn’t long before his hand is on her hip and his other hand is in her hair.

“Not playing fair, Hermione,” he mutters before he pulls her head back and kisses her hard. She moans into the kiss and reaches up to unbutton his shirt. When she feels bare skin, she can’t stop touching. He pulls back slightly and is breathing hard. “My room or here?”

“I don’t care. Want you,” she tells him before she leans down and licks neck. While it’s been enjoyable teasing him, she’s ready for more. It’s been too long. She moves her thumb over his nipple and rubs, which causes him to buck his hips against her as he whimpers. Bloody hell, that’s hot. She does it again.

“Fuck.” Teddy fumbles with the buttons of her shirt before he grabs both sides and tugs.

“If you ruin my shirt, I won’t be happy.” She nibbles on his neck and pushes his shirt off his shoulders.

“Will not being happy mean that you stop?” he asks in a husky voice that does wicked things to her. It’s difficult to remember his question. “Never mind. I’ll buy you a new one.” With that, he tugs harder, and she can hear the material of her shirt rip as well as the sound of buttons falling around them.

“I don’t approve of ripping clothing,” she informs him before she scratches his back lightly and bites his shoulder. His hands are all over her, and she follows him as he moves them so that he’s sitting on the sofa. She straddles him and rolls her hips, not sure how he manages to arouse her so easily. She’s already wet and aching for him, and she doesn’t even have her bra off yet.

“Stop. Can’t—won’t last long.” He grips her hips and stops her movement, which is annoying. She likes the friction.

“Unfasten your trousers.” She pulls her skirt up higher, until it’s around her waist, and she unclasps her bra, tossing it beside them as he shifts beneath her.

“So fucking sexy,” he murmurs as he looks up at her. She feels sexy when he looks at her like that, so she’s glad there’s not a mirror around for her to see how silly she probably really looks. Half-dressed and straddling him can’t be an attractive look, especially if she’s got ladders in her stockings. He groans. “I can’t unbutton this when you’re doing that.”

“Doing what?” she asks as she moves her hands beneath her breasts and cups them. “I’m not distracting you, am I, Teddy?”

“Touching your tits. When you’re touching those fucking amazing tits.” He watches her face and smiles knowingly before he leans forward and licks her nipple. He moves his hand and drags his thumb along the damp crotch of her knickers, pressing in and rubbing her clit when he reaches it.

She nearly falls off his lap when she arches her back so he can reach her breasts. His tongue is bloody marvelous, and she can’t help but be impressed by how well he’s learned exactly what she likes and how to make her wild. When he pulls her knickers to the side, she shifts so that his fingers can enter her more easily. It feels depraved to be riding his fingers while still wearing her knickers and skirt, but maybe that’s why it’s also exciting.

“You’re so wet. Do you like having my fingers inside you?” He sucks her nipple and thrusts his fingers deeper before she can reply. She likes that he still blushes faintly when talking dirty, that he still looks at her like she’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen, that he’s willing to listen and learn as well as suggest and experiment.

“I want _you_ inside me,” she tells him as she reaches down to touch his erection. Their position doesn’t give a lot of space for teasing, but she’s able to grip him through his trousers and squeeze. “Now.”

“So fucking bossy.” He scrapes his teeth over her nipple, which causes her to reach out and hold his shoulder so she doesn’t fall backwards. “Oh, you like that. Tightened around my fingers and gripped them so hard.”

“Teddy!” She scratches his shoulder and shifts again, needing him inside her. Her eyes widen when she feels his palm make contact with her bum.

“Ted,” he growls softly before he moves his fingers along the crease of her bum, tugging on the material of her knickers until it’s to the side. The elastic is uncomfortable as it bunches around her inner thigh, but she knows that she’ll soon forget the awkwardness once he’s inside her. He swats her bum again, which makes her pull on his hair. “It’s Ted.”

“Inside me. Now.” She feels him remove his fingers and rolls her hips forward to follow them. When he starts to fumble with his trousers, she moves back slightly to give him more space. He leans forward to flick his tongue against her nipple while he’s working on his trousers. Finally, he lifts his hips and pushes them and his pants down slightly to free his erection.

“Bloody hell!” He arches up when she reaches down to grip him. She holds onto him to keep her balance and then moves forward. “Warning next time, yeah? God, your hand feels so good.”

“This will feel better,” she promises as she slowly eases down onto his cock. She begins to move up and down slowly, taking more of him until she finally has all of him inside her. She raises up and holds herself there as she looks down at him. “I like watching your face when we have sex.”

“I like watching your tits bounce.” He strokes her back before gripping her hips and thrusting up into her. She gasps and leans forward as she begins to ride him. “Like watching your face and hearing your noises.”

He’s more confident now, bolder, and she loves it. She knows it won’t take him long to climax—he’s already warned her about that—so she focuses on the feeling of him inside her after nearly two weeks and the sensations caused every time she rises up and pushes down. It isn’t enough.

“Gonna—sorry,” he pants as his head falls back against the sofa. He tightens his grip when he arches up and grunts. As he comes, his hair changes from green to orange to turquoise back to green. It’s fascinating, but she likes watching his face more. He’s trembling and breathing hard, sweat on his chest and forehead, and she can’t even be that annoyed at him coming first because he looks so bloody amazing.

“Touch me,” she tells him after he’s had a moment to come down from his high. She keeps moving, rolling her hips forward as she rides his softening cock. He licks his lips and gives her a lazy smile before he reaches between them and begins to rub her clit. He shifts their position and licks and sucks her nipples as he rubs his thumb against her.

“Your turn. Come for me,” he murmurs, hot puffs of breath against her damp breasts. She digs her fingernails into his shoulder as she feels her orgasm approaching. When it hits, she closes her eyes and arches her back, coming with a soft whimper. She shudders and clenches around him, continuing to move until she stops trembling.

She leans down and kisses him after she finishes, touching his face gently before she rests her forehead against his. She’s sweaty and sticky, but she doesn’t want to get up just yet. “That was—“

“Bloody brilliant?”

“To say the least.”

“I think I might have torn your skirt,” he admits with a sheepish smile. “But I can fix it easily enough.”

“Good, you’d better. However, I don’t think even magic can fix my shirt.” She straightens up and shifts so that he slips out of her. “It’s ruined.”

“Sorry?” He reaches up and touches her breasts. “I’m not really, but I’ll say I am if it means you won’t threaten me.”

“You’re horrible at being devious and sneaky,” she points out with a smile. “You’re lucky that I find it charming.”

“I’m very lucky,” he agrees. “I suppose that you want to go clean up now. I want it noted that I am reluctant to let you go, since I’d be happy spending all night in this position or various others sans clothes.”

“Noted. While all night isn’t possible since I’m in need of food, we will have a lot of hours left in the day once we get home. Plenty of them to spend in various unclothed positions.”

“Point. I like the way you think.” Teddy waggles his eyebrows and leers playfully before he loosens his grip on her hips. “Do you want to use my shower? I’d suggest sharing to save water, but you mentioned food, so we better not.”

“Actually, I might Floo home to shower so I can change clothes, too. It seems my boyfriend has ripped my clothes.”

“I hate that word. Boyfriend. I’m not a boy,” he mutters. “And I said that I’ll buy you a new shirt. It’s not my fault that you were tempting me so much that I had to resort to tearing fabric.”

“Well, it’s certainly not my fault. As for the other, you don’t have to worry about being considered a boy, Ted. You’re definitely a man,” she agrees, which earns her a smile. She stands up and makes a face when she feels the sticky wet mess between her legs drip down her upper thighs. She enjoys sex, a lot, but the messy parts are always bothersome after.

“You’re lucky that I know you just grimaced because of messy fluids and not because of the amazing sex we just had,” he tells her as he stands up. He glances down at the sofa and coughs. “Um, I’ll wash your robes when I do laundry this weekend. I, uh, didn’t think about them being beneath us.”

“I’m very lucky,” she says, repeating his recent remark. Ron never really understood that about her, but he did humor her about it usually. She’s glad that Teddy does seem to understand. It makes it easier. When he mentions her robes, she looks at the sofa and sighs. They had been sitting on her perfectly folded robes, which were now not folded at all. “I’m going to have to start keeping an eye on my clothes whenever we’re together, obviously.”

“I guess being a danger to your clothes is a step-up from being accused of having an alley fetish,” he decides. 

“Alleys that smell like urine,” she corrects, smiling slightly as she remembers that first night they had dinner. Things have changed a lot since then. _They’ve_ changed a lot.

“Remember what I told you about the mention of that not being sexy at all?” he asks while making a face. Suddenly, he smiles. “You know, we could forget about dinner and just eat cake. I have some leftover from yesterday.”

“We’re not going to have cake for dinner.” She rolls her eyes. “You sound like Hugo wanting sweets instead of something healthy.”

“I’m just being practical. You like that, so you should be suitably impressed. If we don’t eat the cake tonight, it’ll go to waste, and I certainly don’t want to be the one to tell Caroline that we didn’t finish her cake.”

“I somehow don’t think you have to worry about her finding out,” she points out dryly.

“Still, scary pregnant women are…well, scary.” He grins. “Did you know that she’s going to name it after me? Since she took all the attention away from me during my Transferring to Another Department party with her baby news, I made her promise. Theodore or Theodora will sound brilliant, yeah?”

“Just brilliant, but not for Caroline’s future baby.” She smiles. “I just hope that things go well for them. They’ve been trying for so long.”

“Guess we can always ask Luna,” he muses. “She seems to have an uncanny knack for knowing things like that.”

“Can’t yet. She’s gone again. She left last week. I’ll mention Caroline’s news whenever I write her next time, though.”

“I thought she planned to stay longer this time.” He shakes his head before he looks at her. “Fine. We’ll go out for dinner and have cake after. In bed. Most things seem to be better if they’re had in bed, after all. Especially if you’re naked.” He clears his throat and smiles. “So, did you want to go home to shower?”

“I knew that it’d have to lead back to nudity.” She laughs softly before she nods. “As for the shower, I think that’s the best idea. I can shower and change while you clean up. I’ll be back here in twenty minutes?”

“Alright. We can discuss dinner when you’re back,” he tells her.

She kisses him once more before she picks up her shirt and puts her shoes back on. When she gets home, she hurries upstairs and hops in the shower. Traveling by Floo while half-dressed and sticky from sex is not a pleasant feeling at all, nor is the anxiety of possibly ending up at the wrong place while looking very well shagged. 

After her shower, she changes into a simple dress and slips on sandals. It’s a little hard to believe that she’s just had sex before they even went out to dinner. She isn’t normally like that, but it isn’t necessarily a bad thing that she’s changing a little. It’s a new relationship, after all, and she’s been growing with it since their first dinner several weeks ago. And it’s not just her. Teddy’s been adapting with it, too. She finishes getting ready and goes back downstairs. 

Teddy’s waiting for her when she Floos back to his house. His hair is wet, and he’s changed into a pair of denims and a pullover without any buttons. Clever boy, thinking ahead, most likely. She smiles and runs a hand through her damp hair. “Hey.”

“Hey back,” he says as he grins. “You look gorgeous, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” She shakes her head but can’t stop from smiling just a little wider. “So, food. I’m starving. Where are we going?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. I was mostly thinking about getting you here so I could have my wicked way with you. Food is your thing. What do you want?”

She walks over and kisses him before she considers the choices. It’s tempting to suggest the Italian place nearby, since that’s become ‘their’ restaurant since that first night, but it’s also their secret place. While she was showering, she thought about their relationship and how it's evolved because it’s been on her mind. She realized that he hasn’t mentioned anything about having to hide and sneak around lately. 

With Rose’s reaction and unwelcome resistance, it’s not something they’ve talked about since they’ve been dealing with the fallout there. Despite that, she knows that it’s time to stop hiding and to face whatever might come from going public. It’s risky, especially considering her conversation with Kingsley yesterday and the possibility of Ogden retiring, but she’s tired of hiding something that makes her so happy. She finally understands that people are going to react however they do, and that won’t change how she feels about him, even though some of the reactions are going to be negative.

“That many options?” he asks as he tugs on a lock of her hair to get her attention. “If you want, we can just walk and see if we find somewhere good.”

“No, I think I know where we should go. I can Apparate us,” she tells him after she makes up her mind. Impulsive, perhaps, but she feels more excited than nervous, so that must mean something positive. She smiles at him. “Trust me?”

“Always.” He steps closer and pulls her against him. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She focuses and Apparates them outside of Finnigan’s.

“Here?” He looks at her and frowns. “I thought this was a date, Hermione. I don’t want another night of playing at just being friends around people we know.”

“Here.” She takes his hand and squeezes. “It is a date, Teddy. There won’t be any playing. At least, not during dinner.”

“Ted. And what do you mean?” He studies her face for a minute before his eyes widen. “Really? It’s Saturday night. There’re going to be a lot of people in there, Hermione. A lot of people who know you or me or both of us.” He looks hopeful yet guarded.

“I know. We should be able to get a table anyway. I know the owner,” she tells him before she walks towards the door, still holding his hand.

“Cute. I didn’t mean that and you know it,” he murmurs. He entwines his fingers around hers. “Stop being cheeky and answer me.”

Instead of replying, she opens the doors and steps inside. He tugs on her hand when she tries to walk further into the pub. There _are_ a lot of familiar faces around at tables and the bar. There’s a moment of panic, and she considers making a run for it. Some Gryffindor she is. Teddy tugs on her hand again, and she turns towards him. “What?”

“Are you really sure about this? I don’t want you thinking you’re ready because Rose has sort of come around or because you’re feeling daring tonight. Once this happens, there’s no going back and no regrets. I just—I don’t want to lose you because of some impulsive gesture,” he whispers.

“I could be offended that you think I’d do something like this for mixed up reasons. You know me better than that. It might be slightly impulsive, but so was accepting that first invitation to dinner last month. We know how well that turned out, so impulsive doesn’t necessarily mean bad. Besides, it's unlikely anyone here is going to run away to Malfoy's house or worse, so we've already seen the most extreme response.”

“Now you’re trying to be all logical and make me forget what I was asking in the first place. And some of them…it wouldn't hurt you worse than Rose, in the short run, but still.” He looks around before focusing back on her. “Now that you seem ready, I’m nervous and feeling anxious. How bloody ridiculous. I’ve wanted this for weeks, but I kept thinking you’d decide it wasn’t worth the risk, that I wasn’t worth it.”

“Ted, I’m sure. Okay?” Before he can reply, she leans up and kisses him right there where anyone can see. It’s more daring than she usually ever is, even when married to Ron, but it might be the only way he stops worrying and understands that she’s ready for this, whatever might happen. When she pulls back, he smiles and touches her face gently. “You’re definitely worth the risk. So stop worrying; that’s my job anyway. I’m ready. It’s time to go public and see what happens.”

The End


End file.
